


Chill On Ice (up to three months)

by Denois



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic), MasterChef (TV) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Masterchef (TV) Fusion, Background and minor other Aces characters, Background and minor other Falc characters, Background or Minor Christopher "Chowder" Chow/Caitlin Farmer, Background or Minor Jack Zimmermann/Eric "Bitty" Bittle, Fake Dating, First Kiss, Getting Together, Jewish!Dex, M/M, Microaggressions, Mutual Pining, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Original Male Character(s) - Freeform, Slow Burn, The Masterchef judges are there to be Masterchef judges, antisemitism - not as a major plot point, at least they have a legit reason to not use their words during the course of this fic, islamophobia - not as a major plot point, passive aggressive hospitality, slow burn?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:22:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 37,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27905914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Denois/pseuds/Denois
Summary: Nursey and Chowder know that Dex has what it takes to win Masterchef, they also know he'd never apply for himself. It's not really betraying your best friend's trust if you only lie to him in order to help him get what he deserves, right?Dex's Junior year is busy. So busy that he forgot to apply for internships. A call from the Masterchef producers indicates that he has summer plans after all. His best friends (and crush) believe in him, how far will he push himself to not let them down?What is the definition of winning anyway? Is it the trophy and title? Or is about who is with you at the end?
Relationships: Derek "Nursey" Nurse/William "Dex" Poindexter
Comments: 67
Kudos: 130
Collections: Fandom Trumps Hate 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Crystalized](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystalized/gifts).



> First, I want to thank Crystalized for requesting this through Fandom Trumps Hate 2020. I hope it's all you wanted and more.
> 
> Second, I want to thank [Draskireis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/draskireis) for beta reading, cheer reading, listening to me ramble and helping me figure out what food things actually seem a)decent and b)difficult. 
> 
> Third, I want to thank Theo and Dragongrowlings for helping me with formulating my specific headcanons for Jewish!Dex especially as it relates to this fic, and helping me to understand some concepts of Judaism to try to make this a respectful and authentic representation. 
> 
> Fourth, I want to thank the members of the Write or Wrong discord server for helping me make decisions when my brain just absolutely refused to pick an ingredient or dish.
> 
> Finally, I guess I want to thank NanoWrimo for giving me a structure to stick to so that I got most of this completed during November. 
> 
> There is an article available on the internet out there about how much stress Masterchef puts contestants under, and what the contract entails. There's only one because the contracts include an NDA and that one was only written because someone managed to not sign them and still end up on the first set of "audition" rounds. I did pull some of how Masterchef in this fic works from that, but I also tried to balance it with story flow and the parts that the viewers end up seeing. Hopefully I hit a good compromise between realism and fiction, acknowledging the mental strain that shows like this intentionally put on the contestants while that's also not the focus of the fic. I've tried to give reasons why it's easier for Dex, it's not just that he's better at dealing with things, but I did give him an easier time than actual contestants would have because, I don't want to subject characters to that.

They had the plan all worked out. First, they waited until they knew Dex had been up late multiple nights in a row working on homework (after class, and practice, and work, and helping try to get Bitty to write his thesis, and cooking a clandestine meal for the Haus residents in his bungalow). Then, they waited some more. They waited until he was sure to be getting super frustrated with his program not working even though he’d spent hours on it. 

Then Chowder went in first. 

“Have you been applying to internships? I’m not sure I got them all.”

Nursey watched from his vantage point as Dex’s fingers slowed and then paused over the keyboard before he looked up at Chowder. 

“Um, not yet.”

“Oh man! The deadlines are soon!”

“I guess I just won’t have experience then.” Dex’s computer beeped at him and his eyebrows furrowed even more. “Why are there so many errors in this code?”

“Hey, actually. I printed extras of the ones I’m applying for in case I messed up.” He held up a folder that he’d taken in. “If you sign these, I can fill them out for you. I know all the stuff they’d need anyway.” 

Dex blinked and finally dragged his eyes away from the computer error message to look at the folder. “What company are these for-”

That was Nursey’s cue. Chowder hadn’t closed the door to Dex’s bungalow all the way, which is how he’d been watching to start with, so he just stood up and walked in, tugging on the hem of the flannel he was wearing as he went. “Hey Dexy. Can I borrow this?”

Dex looked over and stared at him for a moment as though dumbfounded that Nursey would actually want to borrow his clothes. 

“Initial here.” Chowder reached out to put a pen in Dex’s hand and guided it to the appropriate spot while Dex still wasn’t looking. 

“Wait, what was-?” Dex turned back toward Chowder to look at the forms.

“Oh man, can you make dinner tomorrow? The D-hall is supposed to have corn dogs and you know how I feel about corn dogs.” Nursey perched on the edge of Dex’s desk and gave his best puppy eyes.

“Sign here.”

Dex started to look back towards what he was signing, so Nursey reached out to boop him on the nose.

He allowed his eyes to widen and slowly grinned. “Ohh, hey. If I get some truffles, do you think you could like, make it fancy? I bet I could get truffles. Or uni! You work with lobsters, I bet you make great uni.”

Dex stopped even trying to look at what Chowder was having him sign, just moving his hand when instructed as he gaped at Nursey. “Fucking sea urchins? You want me to cook sea urchin for a hockey team?”

Chowder snapped the folder closed. “Great. Well, I’ll let you get back to your code.”

Nursey turned to look at Dex’s computer screen, which was mostly behind him, so it was a bit difficult. “Oh shit, you were coding. My bad my bad. Chill. We'll talk about the uni tomorrow.”

To be sure Dex wouldn’t overhear, they didn’t talk again until they were two floors up, in Chowder’s room.

“Did he sign them?”

Chowder quickly rifled through the papers again and then looked up with a grin. “Yep! All of them. And technically it's kind of an internship so I didn't even lie!”

“Sweet.” Nursey returned the grin. 

Suddenly, Chowder’s grin fell and he narrowed his eyes at Nursey. “Ok, but seriously? Truffles and uni? You don't even like those, and bringing up food seems risky. What if he’d read something about food on the page and he only processed it because you said something?”

Grimacing, Nursey shrugged. “He was trying to read it. It was the first pretentious thing I could think of. You _know_ he always gets distracted trying to figure out if I’m serious when I talk about liking anything even the slightest bit pretentious.”

Chowder tilted his head in agreement. “Although, you are pretty pretentious.”

“Yo! C!” He gaped at the accusation. Even if it was true, he didn’t deserve to be called out by his own best friend. 

Chowder smiled and then dropped backward onto his bed before propping himself up on his elbows. “I think you’re right and we know enough about him to fill in the rest without needing to ask him and risk him figuring it out.”

“Ch’yeah. Of course we do. We’re his best friends.” Nursey returned the smile and dropped next to Chowder, rolling his head back to stare at the ceiling so that C couldn’t see that the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“Right. That just leaves the video audition.” 

Nursey closed his eyes and let his breath out. “Chill.” 

“Yeah. If we don’t want him to figure it out, I figure that leaves straight up lies and deception-”

“Lying to our bestie seems kinda like an a-hole move.”

“Or filming him without his consent and just trying to get him to say good stuff by asking leading questions.”

He dropped an arm over his eyes. There were no good choices. “I don’t think we should violate his consent. He should know we’re filming, even if he doesn’t know why.”

* * *

When Nursey opened his bedroom door to answer the knock, Dex was possibly the last person he expected to be standing in the hall.

“Can I come in?”

“Ch’yeah. Chill.” He stepped back so that Dex could enter and then shut the door behind him. 

Dex was standing stiffly with his arms crossed, but he waited patiently until Nursey leaned against his desk and raised an eyebrow at him. 

“I need to ask you something and I don’t want it to come across wrong.”

Nursey blinked and licked his lips. Apparently Dex wasn’t just up there to thank him again for voting for him, even though he was the clear choice and shouldn’t be surprised that everyone had done so. He couldn’t possibly have come up to ask-

“I just got a call from Masterchef saying that my application was chosen as a finalist to cook for the judges for a chance to be on the show in May. But I didn’t apply. Do you know anything about this?”

Nursey blinked again. Of course that’s what Dex was in his room to ask. He’d almost given up on the application that he’d sent in with Chowder. At least it had come when things were less hectic for Dex. 

Speaking of whom, Dex was still staring at him waiting for an answer. 

“You accepted, right?”

“I honestly have no idea right now. I blanked out a little bit after they mentioned liking my video and mentioned my signed agreement and needing to sign additional waivers. So I’m just trying to figure out who forged my signature and videotaped me without my knowledge then shared it.” 

“And you automatically assumed it was me. Chill.” Nursey sighed and tugged at the hair on the back of his neck. This was definitely not going according to plan.

“Actually, I asked Ollie and Wicks first. Then Whiskey, Tango, the Waffles, and Ford. I figured I’d ask you and Chowder before heading over to the Lax house.” 

“You didn’t ask Bitty?”

“If I believed for even a second that Bitty would submit anyone to that show other than himself, I might have.”

Nursey sighed again and kicked his desk chair toward Dex and motioned for him to sit down before moving to a chair himself. “We didn’t forge your signature. You signed the application.”

“Pretty sure I didn’t apply to Masterchef.” Dex stopped and turned his head slightly. “We?”

Nursey nodded and tilted his head towards the adjoining bathroom. He considered going and getting him, but Chowder would be excited and Dex deserved to decide if he was too, first. “Chowder gave you the forms to sign back in February. You hadn’t applied for internships, and this is kind of like an internship.” 

Dex looked away for a moment while biting his lip. “Ok. I think I remember something about signing applications and him helping me with them. I thought maybe I’d dreamed that.”

“No. And we didn’t record you without your knowledge. We just told you it was for filling in Bitty’s vlog while he was under baking restriction.” 

“Right.” 

“It’s chill if you want to back out. We just, we figured you wouldn’t agree if we suggested it but we know you have what it takes to win.” He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “It’s like an internship, but with the possibility of being paid.” 

“I don’t like attention.”

Nursey wasn’t sure what to say to that so he just nodded.

“I don’t want to be famous. I’m not like you and Chowder. I don’t do well with new people, strangers. I’m not even like Whiskey and Jack. I don’t need to be the best and recognized like that.” 

“Like I said, it’s chill if you want to tell them you’re dropping out.” 

Dex met his gaze and held it for several seconds before pressing his lips into a thin line. “You submitted me because you think I could win, huh?”

“Yeah, we really think you could.” 

“Fuck. It’s my fault for not paying attention to what I was signing. I probably won’t make it past the first couple of audition episodes anyway.” Dex dropped his head back on the chair and stared at the ceiling.

With a grin, Nursey stood up. “I’m going to get C and tell him. He’s going to be so happy! We’ll go to audition thing to cheer you on.” 

“You fucking better.”

* * *

Cooking in front of the judges was nerve wracking. It was designed to heighten anxiety and weed out the weak. Most people hadn’t cooked with famous people watching them before. Most people weren’t used to having every decision they made questioned. 

“Lobster mac and cheese? You plan to impress us with lobster mac and cheese?” 

Dex looked up to meet Joe’s unimpressed gaze. “Ayuh. That’s the plan.” 

“I understand you’re used to cooking for hockey players, but we’re all chefs. We’ve had lobster mac and cheese before. We’ve all _made_ lobster mac and cheese before.” Gordon’s voice was slightly kinder.

“On behalf of my uncle, I thank you for your patronage.” 

Joe raised an eyebrow, reminding Dex even more of Whiskey. 

“He owns a lobster boat. Normally, I’d be working for him over the summer. Instead, I’m hoping to be here. Cooking for you.” Dex continued working while chatting. 

The clock wasn’t stopped just because they were checking in on him. Honestly, they were probably trying to see how well he did under pressure and if he could multitask for when the producers wanted to add drama to the show. Luckily, he’d gotten used to having questions thrown at him while he was cooking. He just had to treat them like the Waffles or Tango, someone he was willing to say more than a few words to.

“So, you’re hoping you know your way around a lobster.”

“No, chef. I know I know my way around a lobster. I’m hoping you like what I make with it. Knowing a lobster and cooking with it are two different things.” 

“Good answer.” Joe nodded at him, which he understood was high praise at this point in the game. 

The judges moved on to the other people who were cooking in the “audition” round with him. There were two others. Technically, they weren’t competing against each other directly. They were all just trying to impress the judges. Realistically, if they all cooked crap food, they’d all get sent packing and their footage would probably never air except maybe as a short clip in a summary of people sent home. Realistically, if they all cooked amazing dishes, they’d be one of the groups that got an entire segment devoted to them and they’d all be in the main part of the competition. Realistically, being better than the others beside him wasn’t a guarantee that he’d get in, but not being as good as them would hurt his chances. 

So he needed to be the best. 

He hadn’t wanted this. He hadn’t asked for this. He’d never planned for this. 

But, Nursey had applied for him. And Nursey had said that he thought he had what it took to win. And Nursey was outside waiting to find out if he was good enough. 

He should have picked something more impressive than lobster mac and cheese. Maybe something with uni and truffles.

It was too late to change now. Besides, it was better to do something he knew and do it well than to do something he didn’t have as much experience with and mess it up. Trying new things was for later in the competition. 

Before he knew it, time was ticking down. He’d timed everything right, so he was good on getting the food on the plate and the plate cleaned up, then transferred up to the table for the judges. One of his competitors wasn’t so lucky, having to rush to get everything on the plate and nearly tripping trying to get it up to the judging table. 

That guy was the first to have his dish tasted. Christina Tosi stepped up and looked it over. 

“Is something missing?”

“Uh. Yeah. I didn’t get my beurre blanc on the plate.”

Chef Tosi nodded and tasted the dish. “That’s a shame.” 

She stepped back and Joe stepped up to taste Dex’s dish. He didn’t say anything, just raised an eyebrow at Dex after looking the plate over then slowly took a bite. After he swallowed and put the flatware away he regarded Dex for a moment. 

“You do indeed know your way around a lobster. But is it enough?”

Dex resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He knew it was all for the drama of the show but he wished they’d just say what they thought. 

Gordon stepped up to taste the last dish. “Visually, this is stunning.”

Maybe Dex had been too quick to wish that the judges would voice their thoughts. Which was a silly thing to think. His thoughts had no bearing on theirs. He was picking up Nursey’s and Chowder’s habits about superstitions.

“But. Does it taste as good as it looks?” Gordon took a careful bite and then hummed softly before returning to the other judges. 

The judges moved a short distance away and while the cameras were filming them murmuring and supposedly discussing their decisions, some of the crew came over and adjusted Dex and the others while yet more took the table and plates away. Finally, the judges lined back up and Dex had to be camera ready again. 

Christina stepped forward first. “Kevin, your plate was incomplete. This was your one chance to prove to us that you deserved a spot in this kitchen, that you deserved a white apron. But without the beurre blanc, your tilapia was dry and tasteless. I’m sorry. You are not moving on.” 

Next to him Kevin nodded. His hands were gripped tightly behind his back and his jaw was clenched. He didn’t look like he was taking the rejection well. He didn’t look like the kind of guy that ever did. 

Gordon stepped forward then. “Tabitha, your dish looked amazing, and it tasted….even better. We believe you have what it takes to be a masterchef. Come get your white apron.”

Tabitha jogged up to grab her apron and managed a hug from Gordon in the process before returning to her spot with a smile. Dex gave her a small smile and held his fist out for a congratulatory bump. 

Then he had to focus back on the judges, because only Joe was left and he was the last contestant to find out if he was flying back to Maine or getting a white apron. 

“Will, you’ve been cooking for hockey players in a frat house and you spend your summers working on your uncle’s lobster boat.” 

Dex nodded. He knew he was an underdog. He knew that he was lucky to have gotten this far in the process. He knew that he should be proud of that, no matter what. 

He knew that if he didn’t get a white apron that his friends would be let down. They wouldn’t say it. They’d insist that he hadn’t let them down. But their hope and optimism about the show would be crushed and it would be his fault.

“Call your uncle. And tell him-”

* * *

Nursey stared at the doors to the Masterchef Kitchen, aka, the soundstage it was filmed on. Dex and two other hopefuls had disappeared in there over thirty minutes before, and crew were starting to reset and film b-roll again, which meant that they should be returning any moment now. As Dex’s cheer group, he and Chowder were at the front of the crowd, along with the people brought by the others in there with Dex. 

Any second.

Any second.

He grabbed Chowder’s hand and squeezed while Chowder squeezed back. 

Finally, the doors opened and a woman came out wearing a white apron and holding her hands over her head in triumph. Her sister and aunt jumped up and down screaming while she went over to celebrate with them.

Then the other guy came out. He flashed a cold smile around and shrugged his shoulders at the lack of apron before joining his group. Nursey tried to ignore the hissed expletives that came from them as they huddled together to commiserate. 

Finally, finally, at last. Dex stepped through the doors. 

Dex stepped through the doors wearing a white apron. 

Because of course the judges could tell how good he was. Of course he was a masterchef. 

Dex’s eyes locked on his and the corner of his mouth twitched up in a small smile right before Chowder’s hand left Nursey’s and Chowder launched himself at Dex. 

“OMG! You did it! This is swawesome!”

And if Chowder was going to wrap himself around Dex in excitement, then it was chill for Nursey to do the same. 

So he did.


	2. Chapter 2

Spending a week at C’s place was sick. It was amazing. It was perfect. 

It was almost perfect. He felt a little like a third wheel hanging out with C and Farms. Not that they didn’t try to include him, just, usually Dex would also be there and he could kind of pretend it was a double date especially when they got super sappy. But Dex wasn’t there. And he couldn’t be sad or down about it because Dex wasn’t there to avoid them intentionally or because he’d rather work than chill with them. 

Dex wasn’t there because Dex agreed to try out for MasterChef even though Nursey applying for him was definitely fraudulent and he could have gotten out of it very easily. Dex wasn’t there because Dex was an amazing chef and clearly sailed through the audition round with the judges. Dex wasn’t there because Dex was about to be on _television_ and Nursey could watch him from the Sharks butterfly chair in C’s room. 

Technically, they’d already watched Dex’s audition episode, so they’d seen him on television. But that didn’t really count because they’d been there and knew the outcome and were on television with him. 

He posted a quick update: “It’s starting.” He set his phone down so he wouldn’t be distracted, then immediately picked it back up.

* * *

Dex figured that he and his roommate walked onto the soundstage that was the Masterchef Kitchen the most relaxed and ready of all the contestants. It was pretty obvious that the roommate assignments were designed to increase stress and tension to generate drama for the cameras. And based on the way the handlers kept directing his questions in the interviews, it was pretty clear they had honed in on the “frat house” part of his story. It wasn’t too difficult to figure out what they expected to happen when they paired up a poor, blue collar, white, hockey playing frat boy with an observant Muslim in a shared living space that they couldn’t leave except for filming and cooking lessons, and with a media blackout meaning they had access to very few alternatives to occupy their time. 

But Dex had spent nearly two months sharing an even smaller space with the man that he was in...well, if not love, then very deep like with. The producers were not going to find a way to make him more uncomfortable than that had been. If they expected a foul mouthed, vulgar, and heavy drinking frat boy that would unsettle his Muslim roommate, they’d picked the wrong member of the Samwell Men’s Hockey team for that, too. 

If they expected him to be Islamaphobic and hateful towards Shayan, well, he had no idea where they’d gotten that idea. He hoped that it had been their own assumptions jumping to conclusions, not that Nursey and Chowder thought that was who he was. 

Regardless, he’d gotten along well with Shayan, and he was pretty sure they were the two least stressed people walking towards the boxes on the cooking stations. And they were both pretty sure that if they let the contestant wranglers or producers know that, they’d be reassigned to new roommates before shooting was done for the day. They’d decided that they’d have to pretend to not get along around the crew. Which was fine, Dex had plenty of experience at pretending to not like someone as much as he did.

He might have been one of the least stressed people in the kitchen, but he still felt completely alone and friendless.

Which was nonsense, of course. He had friends; they just weren’t with him right then. But Nursey and Chowder were probably watching, whenever the episode aired. Or they’d record it or something. They’d believed in him enough to go to a lot of trouble to sign him up to be on the show, they would be supporting him. Somewhere.

Gordon was talking at the front of the stage and Dex tried to focus on the words, but it was mostly just the normal welcome speech and the potential prize. He tried to look hopeful and ready. They wouldn’t keep him around if he didn’t give them the right look for the camera. He was sure of it.

Which was why he’d never considered applying to something like this. He was pretty sure he could pull off “hockey hot” where being bad with words and looking intense were just part of the deal. But did he really have the look for reality tv? He hoped so. He wanted to at least put in a good showing for Nursey and Chowder. 

“Lift your boxes!”

Dex dutifully lifted the mystery box on his station with everyone else to reveal a number of kitchen staples: butter, eggs, flour. 

“The entire contents of your mystery box cost less than $50 from....” Gordon continued the spiel that was really an advertisement. 

Dex knew that he was in danger of being too cynical, too soon, but he just really didn’t care to be sold on the corporate partnership. Even if they were going to use him and the other contestants to sell it as well. It wasn’t that different from a sponsorship deal, in the end. Except that the NCAA had rules against sponsorship deals while still playing in college. Nursey had provided him with an official ruling from the NCAA that allowed his participation in the show and promoting the corporate sponsors of the show since it wouldn’t be making money off of his position on the team. 

Dex looked down at the limited ingredients in front of him and tried to think of what he could make.

* * *

The show cut to Dex sitting in front of the sponsor background by himself.

“The limited items under the box didn’t really worry me. There’s less than that at the Haus normally and this time I only needed to make one plate for the judges. I’m used to anywhere up to two dozen hockey players coming through expecting to be fed.” Dex paused and tilted his head. “Most of them aren’t as picky about how the food looks as Joe, though.”

There was another pause before he resumed. “So I started thinking about how I need one _perfect_ plate, visually, texture, balanced. No pressure, right?” 

Dex’s smile looked a bit forced and tense before the image disappeared. 

At the next commercial break, Nursey grabbed Chowder’s arm.

“They showed his confessional thing, whatever they call it. That’s good right? They do that for the people that win, right?”

“Um. Maybe!” Chowder wasn’t being reassuring enough.

Nursey looked at Farms who shrugged. “They usually show the top and bottom people, I think. It’s hard to tell because I think they usually want the top contestants to sound worried and the bottom to sound confident and Dex was a bit of both?” 

With a groan, Nursey let his head fall back against the cushion. 

“It’s only the mystery box right now. Not elimination. But, do you really think Dex would be in the bottom the first week?”

Nursey sat up to glare at them. “Dex is top material every week.”

“Yeah! Oh, it’s back on. Let’s watch.”

* * *

“You have thirty minutes to impress us by turning this simple pantry into a restaurant quality dish. Your time starts….now!”

Dex immediately started portioning out flour, baking powder, salt and a dash of spice. Then he added some syrup, water, and olive oil and mixed it until it came together in a nice flatbread dough. A few quick kneads and he set it aside under a towel. 

It had to be a flatbread because he didn’t have time to let the dough rise for any other bread recipes he knew. He’d immediately decided to make a French omelette, a la Julia Child, but they took very little time to make and normally he served them up with a crunchy toast and whatever other breakfast items were available at the Haus. 

He liked them because they were quick and he could get tasty protein to everyone on the team efficiently. Gordon, Joe, and Christina were probably going to be less concerned about the protein content and more concerned about the flavor profile and appearance. 

After draping the towel on the dough, he looked at the other ingredients again. Even a spiced flatbread was going to be pretty drab, especially when combined with a basic omelette. He needed some color and crunch. 

He had a few minutes while the dough did its thing, so he grabbed some tomatoes and a cucumber and diced them. There was even some parsley in the herbs part of the box, so he chopped some of that up and added it to the bowl with the tomatoes and cucumber along with some salt, then set it aside so the ingredients could become friends. 

He got a burner set to medium heat, and added some oil. Then he divided out his dough and started rolling a section to about a quarter inch thick. Once he figured it was good, he checked the oil and it was perfectly shimmery, so he dropped the flatbread into the pan. It only took a minute or two per side to get to a nice golden brown. Luckily, the first one looked great, so he didn’t need to spend time on the rest of the dough that he had waiting as backup. 

Turning back to the bowl of salad, he added a bit of extra virgin olive oil, lemon juice, black pepper and ground sumac then gave it a little toss. 

“You have five minutes remaining!”

Dex shook his head. Time for the power play, that’s all. 

He turned the burner up on the stove and put another skillet on to heat. Then, he cracked three eggs into a bowl and added some heavy cream, salt, and pepper before gently and swiftly beating it with a fork until incorporated. A quick swipe of butter in the pan showed it start to bubble and brown, letting him know it was ready. After wiping the test butter out of the hot pan, he put in about three teaspoons of butter and swirled it around to coat the whole skillet, then poured the eggs in. 

After a few seconds, he started swirling the pan on the burner so that the eggs moved around. Once it started moving as a cohesive unit, he flipped it and then shook the pan for a few more seconds before tipping it onto the plate and folding it into thirds. 

He took a deep breath, but couldn’t afford to slow down, so he grabbed the salad and spooned some on, then grated some cheese over the omelette and finished with a last sprinkle of parsley as the judges counted down the last seconds. 

His hands were in the air and he let his chin drop to his chest as time was called. 

He was surprised that the challenge had been so short. He was pretty sure usually mystery box challenges were longer so that the judges could take the time to talk to all the contestants, but they didn’t seem to have done that this time.

“Normally, we talk to the contestant and taste as they work on the mystery box challenges.” Apparently, Christina was going to explain why things were different. “This time, we wanted to focus on watching your techniques and time management skills. Some of you impressed us. Some of you, did not.” 

“Every time you cook for us, you should be looking to impress us.” Joe looked out at them all with an expression that dared them to believe he’d ever been impressed in his life. “Some of you didn’t even finish your dish. If this was an elimination challenge, you’d be gone. Maybe you should be.” 

Dex resisted the urge to glance around and see who they might be referring to.

“Still! Some of you did impress us. Three of you stood out with your techniques, food choices, and by using all of your time very wisely. We’d like to take a closer look please, Na’Queena.” Gordon called out and gestured toward the other side of the sound stage.

Dex turned and watched the competitor carefully walk up with her plate of food. 

“This looks, amazing.” Gordon always paused before the adjective, it was a weird vocal quirk that Dex wasn’t sure he’d noticed before.

Dex had managed to miss hearing what she’d made, but apparently Gordon really enjoyed looking at it. 

“And it tastes, really great. The creaminess of the sauce is spot on. It could have used just a little bit more.”

“Yes, chef.”

Na’Queena stepped back and Christina stepped forward.

“The next dish we’d like a closer look at is Tabitha’s.” 

Dex remembered Tabitha from his audition so he made sure to clap for her as she walked by. 

“I have prepared for you some raspberry mini muffins.”

“Baking in a thirty minute challenge, risky.”

“Yes, chef. When I saw the items in the mystery box, I was immediately drawn to the flour and thought I wanted to bake something. I knew I could get mini muffins done in time, and I just had to hope that they would come out perfect.”

Christina nodded and picked up a muffin, pulling it apart to pop part into her mouth. “They nearly did. Thank you.”

Tabitha stepped back next to Na’Queena and Joe stepped forward. 

“The final chef with a dish we’d like to see more of is Will.” 

It took a moment for Dex to realize they meant him. Then he carefully picked up his plate and took it to the judges’ table.

“I have prepared a French omelette, with spiced flatbread and Mediterranean salad.”

“There’s a lot going on on this plate.” 

“When I looked in the box, I immediately thought of omelettes. I make them all the time for the team because the diet plan calls for a lot of protein, but they don’t take a lot of time to make, which is why I make them so much, so I wanted to fill out the rest of the plate. Normally I’d pair the omelette with a toasted bread, but I didn’t have time for regular bread options which is why I went with a flatbread, and I added some cayenne to add depth to the flavor. Finally, I wanted to give the plate some color and crunch, and the box had what I needed for a Mediterranean salad, so it made sense.”

“I thought you were supposed to be a frat guy. What happened?”

Dex forced a laugh. “Well, it’s a hockey frat, so I guess I’m a frat guy on a diet plan, and it’s still an ivy league school, so my teammates have some high standards on their meals.”

Joe cut a bit of the omelette and bread and then piled some of everything onto his fork and took a bite. “I think I might have some high standards for you, too, now.”

That was apparently all the feedback that Dex was going to get, so he stepped back with the others in the top while the judges discussed amongst themselves.

Finally, the judges arrayed themselves again.

“You’ve all made excellent dishes today. But the winner of today’s mystery box challenge is… Will.” 

“Will, you really thought about how the entire dish would come together cohesively. You’ve set a high bar for yourself.” Joe gave him a pointed look and Dex had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. 

Of course he’d managed to make things harder on himself. He couldn’t just do something good enough to get by, he’d had to try to make something good. Something he’d want to feed Nursey and Chowder. Something he’d thought they’d like.

“Please follow us into the Masterchef Pantry where you will receive a major advantage.”

Dex followed them in once the cameras were set up and ready and the producers gave him the go ahead. 

“Well done, young man. Your first advantage is immunity. You will not have to cook in the elimination challenge.” 

“Thank you. That’s a relief.” Dex smiled. 

“Your second advantage is that you get to pick what everyone else will be cooking with. The options are…” Christina paused and lifted the cover over the plate in front of her. “Sardines.”

Joe lifted the cover in front of him. “canned chicken.”

Finally, Gordon lifted the last cover. “Or canned tuna. Your competitors will have to use one of these ingredients and elevate them to a restaurant quality dish. Which will it be?”

“Um.” Dex blinked a couple of times and looked back and forth between the options. “I’m going to go with the tuna.”

“Why the tuna?”

“I think that people have a pretty set idea of how to use canned tuna, so it will be harder to think of a way to elevate it.”

Joe smiled. “Sneaky. I like it.”

* * *

“Go on up to the balcony.”

“That’s right. One of Will’s advantages was immunity from elimination. The other was to pick what the rest of you will be cooking with.” 

Nursey stopped paying attention to the tv screen. Dex was safe from elimination. Dex had won the mystery box. Dex was still in the running for MasterChef.

Also, Chowder and Farms were both hugging him and bouncing and Chowder was screaming in his ear and he might also have been screaming. That was beside the point. 

“I knew it! I knew he was the top!” 

It took several minutes before they all calmed down enough to see that the show was continuing on. They’d missed what the elimination challenge was, but none of them seemed to care, so they didn’t rewind it. 

“Do we even need to watch the rest of this? Who cares who gets eliminated? It won’t be Dex.”

“Yes. We need to figure out who Dex’s biggest competition is.” Farms had a point, but Nursey still wasn’t interested.

He checked his phone and started making sure all of twitter and every group chat he was part of knew how Dex had killed the mystery box challenge. “Has he ever made that stuff for us?”

“Ch’yeah! Dex makes French omelettes all the time.”

“Chill, but I mean like the Mediterranean salad and flatbread and all.”

“Oh. Um. I’m pretty sure. Not all at the same time.”

“Sick. Then I’m not lying when I say I know it’s mad delish.”

“If you don’t remember, then how can you be sure you’re not lying?” 

Nursey glanced at Farms, then back to his phone. “Because everything I’ve ever eaten that Dex made was mad delish.”

“Ok. It’s almost over. Looks like Shayan and Na’Queena are the standouts or watever. Na’Queena did well in both parts today, so she’s definitely competition. We need to keep an eye on Shayan and Tabitha.” 

Chowder nodded at Farm’s statements, but Nursey wasn’t really sure what they were supposed to be doing with the knowledge of who Dex’s strongest competitors were. 

“This season, there will be two contestants eliminated in each round. The stakes are even higher to impress us every challenge, and unfortunately, the three of you failed at that today and only one of you will get to continue your MasterChef journey.”

Nursey looked up at the other two and swallowed thickly. Dex was safe this time. But now he had twice the chance of being eliminated every week going forward. 

“Henry… I am sorry but you are not the next MasterChef. Please remove your apron.” 

Nursey didn’t bother looking over. He didn’t remember who Henry was and he wasn’t sure he cared. 

“Martha, I am sorry, but you are also eliminated. Please remove your apron.” 

The tv shut off and he finally looked from Chowder to Farms and back. 

“It’ll be fine, right guys?”

“Ch’yeah. Dex is good enough to be on top every week. It won’t even be a problem.”

Nursey knew Dex was good enough to win. But somehow that didn’t completely reassure him.


	3. Chapter 3

Flying back to the east coast while Dex was still in California felt wrong, but the goal was for Dex to be there for pretty much the entire summer. While Nursey could work on his portfolio and query from anywhere, C and Farms both had summer jobs starting so he couldn’t really keep bugging them. He was resigned to watching the rest of the episodes alone, but he could still make sure the rest of the team was supporting Dex, too. 

He didn’t expect them to be as invested as he and Chowder were. Afterall, they were Dex’s best friends and the ones that had applied for him. Besides, no one else on the team had a crush on Dex like Nursey did. At least, he didn’t think anyone else did. But not being as invested didn’t mean that they shouldn’t be good friends and tune in to watch and support Dex. So he made sure to text the group chat of SMH plus alums.

> Nursey: Masterchef 2morrow. Watch. Cheer for Dex. Or I’ll tell C.

> Chowder: Of course everyone’s going to watch!

> Nursey: better not b [eyes emoji] alone. Live chat watch party [balloon emoji]

Still, he figured only a few of the guys might actually watch and he’d mostly be texting to the void. The Waffles would probably watch, they all liked Dex and were suitably impressed by the Frogs as upperclassmen to not risk going against the united front presented by Nursey and Chowder. The Taddies were iffy and the alums were probably all busy. He knew for a fact that Shitty was tied up as a summer associate at some big law firm in Boston.

It was surprising to receive a text from Jack.

> Jack: If you don’t want to watch alone you can join us in Prov

A few minutes before the next episode aired, Nursey was sitting on Jack’s couch.

“So you and Christopher submitted the application for William?” Bitty was sitting in a chair rather than on the couch and had his eyes focused on Nursey.

“Ch’yeah. Back in February.”

“I just find it interesting that you thought of submitting William, but not anyone else on the team.”

Nursey slowly lowered his phone to the seat beside him and held Bitty’s gaze. He had an answer planned for this situation. He just hadn’t expected it to come up so soon. Or for Bitty’s voice to sound quite so icy.

“In February we were all trying to get you to focus on your thesis, eh Bud?” Jack dropped onto the end of the couch between Nursey and Bitty and grinned at Bitty. 

“We thought that the non compete clause in the contract would limit your options and that you wouldn’t want to agree to paying them an agent fee for all future cookbooks, even those that aren’t Masterchef branded.” Nursey gave his most chill smile. 

It wasn’t a lie, the standard boilerplate contestant agreement had those stipulations in them. Of course, the one he’d presented to Dex to sign didn’t have them, because he’d gotten his father’s contract lawyers to negotiate a better deal for Dex. But between Bitty’s vlog and how much baking he did to avoid doing school work, it was easy to guess that he’d be trying to do something chef or cooking related after graduation. And with Jack’s backing and his family’s connections, it’s not like Bitty needed the Masterchef name for publicity, so the contract would have been more of a hindrance for him. 

Bitty smiled at him. “Of course y’all were just thinking of my future. Let me get you something to drink. You must be thirstier than a camel in a sweater at the beach on a 95 degree day.”

* * *

Dex was tired. The good news was that he was used to being tired because he normally only got about four or five hours of sleep during the summer due to the lobster fishing hours and putting in time doing appliance repair and cleaning gutters. The hours on end of cooking lessons on days they didn’t shoot episodes weren’t the problem. Nor the even longer hours of recording and extra interviews.

The problem was that he’d been arguing with the contestant wranglers since he got there about the fact that he needed access to the hotel gym or something, and time to exercise every day. He was captain of a D1 hockey team that had won the NCAA championship. Keeping up with conditioning wasn’t optional. Especially since he was still at least a little hopeful about his own chances at an NHL offer.

They’d finally agreed that he could go to the hotel gym in the morning before all the contestants were shuttled to the sound stage, with a wrangler to make sure he wasn’t somehow sneaking social media access. But it meant even longer days, especially since he and Shayan were already having to fit what religious observances they weren’t willing to ignore into the small amounts of personal time that they were afforded. He’d considered pressing for time, but Shayan had talked him out of it.

“They aren’t our employers. They don’t have to follow labor laws about religious freedoms. Trust me, Will. Do not let them know about any part of your religion they might use against you.” He’d sighed. “You know they paired us as roommates to increase drama. They’ll use anything they can for ratings.”

“Do you need me to try to apply pressure to get them to stop?”

“The confidence of youth. It’s alright. I knew what I was getting into when I applied.” Shayan had smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. It was one of his favorite chirps since Will had admitted in the privacy of their shared room that Nursey and Chowder had applied for him. 

“Let me know if I can help.”

And that had been the end of that conversation. 

Even with the loss of sleep, he still felt pretty good going into the studio to record the second challenge. The thing that worried him was the fact that every elimination was going to be a double elimination. It was probably because of the network not purchasing as many episodes or something, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that there was double the odds of being sent home any given week. He needed to stay in the competition long enough to make Nursey proud. And Chowder. 

Time to focus. He looked up at the judges.

“Today’s challenge is All American. As American as apple pie.”

* * *

They didn’t interview Dex this time. They should definitely have shown an interview with him if he won the initial challenge. Nursey chewed on his lip. The challenge was making pie. Nursey knew for a fact that Dex made _excellent_ pies. If the judges couldn’t see that, then he had major doubts about their suitability for judging and about the fairness of the competition.

Joe was standing in front of Dex’s station, licking a sample from the filling that Dex had made. “You make a lot of pie in your frat house?”

“No, Chef.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“It was the specialty of our captain this past year, so he made most of the pies.”

The camera cut away to another contestant who was talking to Gordon instead of showing Joe’s reaction.

“That’s right! I taught him everything he knows.” Bitty seemed happy at the mention of the fact that he’d spent nearly every waking moment of the last four years baking pies. “He’ll win for sure if he’s using my recipe. I won the tri-county fair with my mini apple pies.”

Nursey wondered if he should mention the fact he was pretty sure that Dex wasn’t going to win the preliminary challenge this week. These shows always followed a formula for increasing drama, but it meant the lack of a spotlight on Dex away from the kitchen was a pretty big clue that he was going to the elimination challenge.

Sure enough, three other contestants were called to the front and a man named Shayan won the challenge. 

“I expected better taste from Christina, at least.”

“Chill, Bits. They probably just didn’t want to have him win two weeks in a row. They have to keep people guessing about who’s the best so they watch.” He bit his tongue before he could add on that he was pretty sure people would watch just to see Dex cooking. _He_ certainly would have.

* * *

Dex was really happy for Shayan. He really deserved the win and the immunity. 

Dex was also happy that he and Shayan were getting along better than the producers must have hoped because apparently he’d gotten to assign Dex and the rest of the contestants to one of three different desserts and he’d picked Dex to make tiramisu. 

Not that tiramisu was easier than trifle or strawberry shortcake. But Dex had been working with Tango the last couple of years on replicating his Nonna’s tiramisu recipe. So, while they had gone over trifles and shortcakes during the last couple of weeks, Dex was very confident in his tiramisu. Nonna T’s recipe was definitely going to keep him safe from elimination. 

He kept himself from smiling as he worked, whipping egg yolks with sugar. He was definitely going to have to thank Shayan when they got back to the hotel. They couldn’t always have each other’s backs because it was a competition, but it felt really good to know they were good enough friends that Shayan had his on this one.

* * *

“I don’t even remember teaching him to make tiramisu. It sure looks like he learned well, though, right?”

Dex was one of the last contestants to have his dish tasted and Nursey was on the edge of the couch and seriously considering throwing a pillow at Bitty because he didn’t want to miss anything.

Joe had just taken the bite and swallowed and was blinking at Dex. To Nursey’s eye, it looked a little bit like Joe might be thinking about kissing Dex, but he seriously needed to back off because Nursey called dibs on kissing Dex. Besides, Joe was _way_ too old for Dex. 

“This. This reminds me of my mother’s tiramisu.” Joe stopped and made an odd face. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“One of my teammates, Tony, we’ve been trying to replicate his Nonna’s recipe.”

“I think that Shayan hoped to take you out today, but you have definitely shown some skill.”

“Thank you, Chef.”

Nursey started grinning. He couldn’t help it. Dex had killed the challenge. Nonna T’s tiramisu was seriously sick. He was a shoo in. 

“A lot of you impressed us today. Good job. However, there were some dishes that stood out from the rest. Sam, Robbi, Jerry, America, Kimora. Well done.”

“On the other hand, some of you did not impress us.”

Nursey was too busy being confused to pay attention as the lowest three were called up to the front. Dex wasn’t among them. Because why would he be? The question was why wasn’t he in the top five? He tapped out a message to Frog Chat, then deleted it. The episode wouldn’t air in California for another three hours. He tapped out another message.

> Nursey: Text after show. I have ?s

Seconds later a reply came in.

> Chowder: No spoilers!

> Nursey: I’m not. Msg when finished.

“Briar and Avery, please remove your aprons and leave the Masterchef Kitchen.”

The two guys who walked off after Christina dismissed them weren’t ones that Nursey remembered having an opinion on. The list of contestants was getting shorter though, soon he’d at least recognize them, probably.

Jack offered to let him stay the night, but he declined. Staying at other people’s places was always awkward, especially when it was a couple. Besides, he’d dealt with hearing Jack and Bitty through the walls enough for the past year at the Haus. 

He wasn’t quite back to the city when his phone chirped with messages in Frog Chat.

> Chowder: That was weird!

> Farms: They don’t usually do that many stand outs.

> Nursey: mebee team challenge?

> Farms: If so, they probably stopped Dex from being a stand out to keep him from being captain

> Nursey: y tho?

> Chowder: Probably because they’ve talked about him being captain of the team.

> Nursey: So? They no he’s good, so they screw him over  
>  Nursey: ?

> Farms: Probably think he doesn’t take directions well. Wanna stress him out

Nursey pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. It made sense. Based on the stuff included in the application and stuff, it made a lot of sense. Stress out the contestants and increase the drama. And true, Dex could be pretty dramatic when he was stressed enough. He just tended to take a lot longer to get to that point. Having someone else as a captain for one day wasn’t going to do it. Based on the stories Dex had shared in Frog Chat, even a bad captain for a single day wouldn’t hold a candle to the stuff he put up with on his high school team.

Nursey nodded.

> Nursey: Dex is gonna kick [peach emoji]


	4. Chapter 4

Nursey settled in his most cozy chair in his room, pulled up to the perfect distance to watch Dex on his tv. No one else was home, so he could have watched on any of the other tvs in the house, but his room was cozy and comfortable and it felt a little like inviting Dex in. It was nice. 

The introduction and recap started playing as he opened the top of one of the jars that Dex had apparently tucked into his bag at some point. He wasn’t entirely sure when because he hadn’t gotten around to emptying his bags until two days before. But the items were all self stable and fine. He dipped a chip into the salsa inside and stuck it into his mouth before swiping his phone to send a message to the group chat.

> Nursey: Let’s go Dexy!

> Chowder: No spoilers! It’s not on here until later!

> Nursey: ur fault for living in the past, C.

He grinned at the row of frowny and angry emojis that Chowder sent back. He wouldn’t really post spoilers until everyone had a chance to watch. Well, not unless it was really, _really_ , good.

* * *

“So, I’m thinking like a falafel, gyro, shawarma theme.”

Dex squinted at Sam in confusion. “How many different things do you want us to have prepped and ready and be able to complete in the truck tomorrow?”

“Yeah. This isn’t restaurant takeover. We’ve only got the little truck kitchen to work in and there’s going to be four of us crammed in there.” Mari shifted her weight and glanced at the other members of the group. 

“What if we do like, three wraps or whatever and then three side options?” 

“How is ‘three wraps or whatever’ different from what I suggested, Jen?” Sam shifted to look at her.

“Because we can plan three variations on things that use similar components but will have enough different flavor profiles to stand out. It will cut down on the amount of shifting between tasks that we’ll have to do.” Mari’s voice was slightly forceful and drew Sam’s gaze back towards her.

“I’m the Captain of the team-” 

Dex cut him off before he could get pissed. “Of course. You’re the captain. That’s why you had the great idea for Mediterranean food. And because you’re a good captain, you want to utilize our skills in the kitchen to their maximum potential. You got our back. We get that. We just want to reduce the amount of stress you’ll be under tomorrow. We got your back, bro.” 

He caught Mari’s eye roll, but luckily, Sam was focused on him and didn’t see it. 

“Right. We’ve got each other’s backs. That’s what I was saying.” Sam nodded.

“Ok, so like, what about a hummus pita sandwich kind of thing, and a couple of falafel wraps?” 

“Are two falafel wraps going to be different enough?”

“We can make one more classic and the other like spicy or something. Just a really different flavor profile. It’ll give the tasters options to fit their comfort level, too.”

Finally they were able to settle into finalizing the actual components so that they could get the ingredients they needed and start prep work. Israeli salad and hummus could be made ahead of time and then served the next day, no problem. The tahini and tzatziki sauces would also keep, and of course the potatoes could be prepped to make the french fries. The falafel needed to be started the day ahead and that and the lavash and pita dough were the biggest concerns.

* * *

“Ok, so we all were in charge of different stuff, right? I’ve got the falafel. Jen, you have the sauces. Mari, you have the breads and Dex you’re going to take care of the fries and Israeli salad, right?”

Dex tried not to wince. They were in a really good place on prep and they had an hour to finish up before customers were going to start showing up. They really needed to be working instead of talking.

“It would make sense to do a zone defense.”

“What are you talking about? This isn’t hockey.” Sam rolled his eyes and turned to ignore Dex.

“No, it’s four people in a tiny space with hot oil and hot pans and food we can’t afford to waste. Having people trying to move around each other is opening us up to injury.”

Mari tilted her head. “I’d really rather not get burned if I can help it.”

Sam heaved a sigh. “What do you suggest then? One person frying, one on the counter, one, what baking?”

“Ayuh. And one putting the orders together, expediting.”

“Uh, hold on, sounds like you’re planning to have one of us called as not cooking today. I’m not having it called against me that I didn’t cook because I was Front of House or whatever.” Jen held up her hands and took a step back.

“I’ll do it.” Dex shrugged. “I’ll take the orders and call them back. Two of you split up the cooking and one finish the plates. I can help a bit if we get in the weeds.”

“Which we definitely will if we don’t start prepping. The falafel still needs prep, doesn’t it? And I want to at least get some lavash going.” With a gesture, Mari summed up her impatience and turned to start getting the dough ready to cook. 

Jen followed after her, but Sam stepped close into Will’s space. “This better work or I’m calling it off and taking care of mine.”

“Bro, seriously. We’re a team. They want us to work together, not just in spite of each other.”

Sam fixed him with another glare. “ _I’m_ the Captain. Don’t forget that.”

Saluting would be the wrong move. Dex knew that. Unfortunately, he’d been hanging around Tango and Nursey too much and he was barely able to stop himself.

* * *

Gordon smiled blandly. “The popular vote has been tallied. Let’s see who our winner of the Team Food Truck Challenge is.”

He started counting backward from ten and the audience on site counted with him while Nursey sighed and waited impatiently. A moment after they yelled out “one” mostly in sync, two pyrotechnic devices on either side of Gordon shot off blue smoke and a banner dropped down saying “blue team.”

“I _knew_ it!” Nursey fist pumped and wiggled and fell out of his chair. He managed to claw his way back up to see Dex exchanging a fist bump with Mari and the team all exchanging high fives. 

“Thank you all for coming out and casting your votes.” 

It was time for a commercial break, which also gave Nursey time to clean up the chips he’d managed to accidentally throw around while celebrating. When the show returned, it was a pan over the Masterchef Kitchen with a voice over. “They’ve survived their first team challenge, but now it’s time for the dreaded pressure test.”

“Blue Team. Well done. You have earned immunity and can head up to the balcony.” Joe turned a hard stare at the rest of the competitors. “It’s no wonder, really, that they won. They were the only team that looked like they were working as a team. The rest of you….” He trailed off and shook his head.

Nursey didn’t really care about the pressure test when Dex wasn’t involved, and he could always look up who was eliminated online later, so he turned the tv off and leaned back in his chair. He couldn’t stop grinning.

Of course. Of course Dex was in the top again. That’s where he belonged. Everyone was going to know that.


	5. Chapter 5

Denice’s brothers were a wall of muscle that took up the entire couch. They probably could have taken up another couch as well, but they were all on the same couch and pretending like it wasn’t too crowded. They were coordinated. They were doing this intentionally. They were doing this so that they could all stare flatly at Nursey at the same time and he had to be aware of them all, and how large they were, at the same time. 

Nursey tried to flash them a smile, but they just continued staring. 

In theory, he shouldn’t be intimidated by them. He was six foot two and two hundred pounds. He was a D1 dman. He was from New York City. He could take care of himself.

Which only went so far against three D1 football defensive linebackers. Who apparently didn’t like him much, even though he hadn’t done anything to earn their dislike.

Denice walked in, then rounded the couch to smack them all in the back of the head on the way to the other chair. “Stop trying to intimidate my friend.”

“We weren’t.” The one in the middle had a gruff voice.

“You were.”

“He can’t expect to just show up and, what? Not even explain why he’s here?” That was the brother closest to him. Probably the biggest, though it was a little hard to tell with them all bunched together.

“He’s here because I invited him over to watch Masterchef.”

“Masterchef?” That was the middle brother again. Or at least, the one sitting in the middle.

Nursey was starting to wish he’d gotten their names. “Ch’yeah. My D-line partner is competing this season.”

Nearly as one, they all leaned forward, but somehow it was far less intimidating than they’d been a moment before. “D-line?”

“Chill. Yeah. Uh. He’s my defensive partner? We’re on a line together? Have been for three years.”

“You play defense?”

“Ch’yeah.”

“Okay. No. I know where this is headed. After the show. Either shut up and watch with us, in which case we’re rooting for Will, or get out.”

The brother on the far end stood up and disappeared somewhere in the house, but the other two spread out a bit and leaned back to get comfortable. Apparently, they were staying to watch.

* * *

Will shifted his stance. As one of the taller contestants, he wasn’t as close to the demonstration. It was a situation he was used to. If you can see over other people’s heads, you get put in the back. He wasn’t sure if being closer would help or not, but Gordon was demonstrating some pretty precise cutting techniques to slice a ripe tomato, then a bell pepper. 

“Please return to your stations.”

Apparently that was all the demonstration that they were going to get. Sure, Gordon had talked them through it. The exact width that tomato slices apparently _should_ be. The necessity of regular sizes when dicing a pepper. And it’s not like he hadn’t cut up tomatoes and peppers before. But, well, it also wasn’t like the Waffles were going to complain if his tomato slices were a little too thick or some of them were a little squished or something. 

Gordon, and Joe, on the other hand, would.

“You will have thirty minutes to slice as many tomatoes and dice as many peppers as you can. You will switch from tomato to pepper and back every five minutes. The chef with the most _properly_ sliced and diced tomatoes and peppers will win a huge advantage for the elimination round.”

“Remember, when we call switch, you must stop working immediately and move to the other station.”

Dex nodded slightly. He was familiar with circuit sessions. Usually it was skills training for hockey or conditioning, but sure, why not cooking? It was a skills test challenge after all. 

“Your time starts...now!”

He picked up the knife and started slicing. Luckily, the knives were all sharp. That was one of the biggest problems, in his experience. A blade that hadn’t been sharpened or didn’t hold an edge long enough, smashing the tomato into pulp. Then it was a matter of making sure to use a slicing motion to get through the skin instead of chopping down on it with brute force. 

He was pretty sure he could get quite a few slices cut. The challenge was trying to make them ones that the judges would accept. They had to be _proper_. 

“Switch!”

He set the knife down and moved to the other cutting board, picking up the knife there to start dicing the peppers. He had to focus on the task at hand, not worry about elitism in cooking reality tv. Sure, people cooking at home probably wouldn’t care about exactly perfect knife cuts. Sure, the people, well, _most_ of the people he cooked for at Samwell or at home wouldn’t care about exactly perfect knife cuts. But it was a competition show and they had to have Drama ™. He could deal with that.

“Switch!”

* * *

“They are mad picky.” Nursey was chewing on the inside of his lip, which was a bad habit, but seriously. Joe had just thrown out all but one slice of tomato cut by a blonde contestant named Skyla. 

The shot moved and he could just see Dex waiting, facing the front of the kitchen, the next row of work stations up. “Chill. That’s weird.”

“What’s weird?”

“He doesn’t have his grease rag or whatever. He always has it in his back pocket.”

“You spend a lot of time staring at his back pocket?”

Nursey glanced over at Denice. “No? It’s just always there. Like his flannels and his work boots.”

“If you say so. I don’t remember a rag.”

“It’s alway dark blue, so I guess it blends in with his jeans.”

One of the brothers snorted from the couch. “So, you do spend a lot of time staring at his back pocket.”

He didn’t have to take this. He really didn’t.

But then, it wasn’t like they were going to tell anyone. “Not his back pocket. No.”

When he turned to look back at the tv, he caught a suspiciously sly look on Denice’s face and he started to wonder if he was right to trust she wouldn’t say anything. Whatever. He needed to distract himself from worrying about how many of the plates of tomatoes and peppers Joe was throwing in the trash on Dex’s work station, so he pulled out his phone to text Chowder.

> Nursey: uv noticed Dex’s rag, right? Back left pocket?

It took a few minutes for a reply to come through and the judges had moved on.

> Chowder: his handkerchief? Yeah. Why?

> Nursey: just wonder. Not got it at MC

> Chowder: Well, ch’yeah. Probably because he’s on tv.

He nodded at that. It made sense. The production assistants or whatever probably didn’t want him to have it for a look thing or maybe he figured it was a contamination danger or something in the kitchen. No big deal.

“The winner of the skills test is, Jamie! Jamie, come into the Masterchef Pantry to receive your advantage.”

The scene cut to the camera in the pantry and showed Jamie walking in alone to approach the judges. 

“Your first advantage is immunity. You will not have to compete in this elimination round.”

Jamie smiled and seemed to melt a few inches in appreciation. “Thank you so much.”

“Your second advantage, is that you get to pick what everyone else will be cooking.” Gordon’s smile was thin.

“You see, we all like Mexican food, but we can’t agree on the best type. Now me, I’m a simple man with spicy tastes. I prefer salsa.” Joe lifted the cover in front of him to reveal two bowls of salsa, one red and one green.

“On the other hand, I appreciate a good, traditional soup. Like turkey posole.” Gordon lifted his cover to reveal a bowl of soup.

“Whereas I don’t like soup or salsa much at all. I much prefer a good churro.” Christina lifted the final cover to reveal four churros, beautifully covered in cinnamon and sugar. 

And they cut to commercial. Of course, of course they cut to commercial.

“Derek, if you don’t stop trying to claw my chair apart, I’m going to turn this off and you’ll have to find somewhere else to watch the second half of the episode.”

Nursey blinked and looked down at his hands to see that he had them clenched tightly into the arms of the chair. It took a lot of effort and a lot of long, slow, deep breaths to get his fingers to uncurl.

“He wasn’t even cooking or up for elimination on that part. Are you ok?”

“Ch’yeah. Of course. I’m chill. Why wouldn’t I be chill?” 

The nearer brother leaned over. “Bro, are you sure? You seem like, really stressed.”

“Mad, mad chill. The chillest.”

Denice sighed. “Hockey bros.”

Both of her brothers nodded in agreement, which was fine. 

He could have just left it at that. But he felt like he needed to explain. “It’s just, it’s my fault he’s there. C and I, we submitted an application for him. He didn’t even want to go. And, Denice, you know how he can be about authority figures saying he’s not good enough. Which is bullshit, because he is good enough. Like, so what if his tomato slices are a millimeter too thick sometimes? Maybe people like thicker tomato slices, Joe!” 

The other Ford brother snorted. “Weird.”

“What?” Nursey’s gaze had slowly moved back to the screen like it was a magnet, even though there was a commercial about vacuum cleaners, not the show, but he snapped over to look at them again with the comment.

“Just, looked like he was an adult to me. You might have sent the application, but if he’s still there? That’s because he wants to be.”

Which, chill, yeah, okay. That tracked. Dex probably went through with it just because he felt like he couldn’t back out. Nursey got that. He’d tried to reassure Dex that he _could_ back out, but Dex was Dex and had insisted that since he’d signed the papers, even unknowingly, then he should follow through. And Dex being Dex, he probably wouldn’t have thrown the competition on purpose. He’d want to at least try for his and Chowder’s sake. But, he wasn’t the same stubborn ass from frog year who would have sacrificed his mental health on the altar of doing what he was asked by people he looked up to. Dex would have dropped out or at least not kept trying so hard if it was too much. 

Nursey had to believe that.

* * *

A camera on a crane lift swung by getting an overhead scrolling shot of the kitchen and contestants and Dex followed the directions to look at the pantry doors in anticipation. A few seconds later, the three judges walked out, along with Jamie, who was grinning broadly.

“Young lady, head on up to the balcony.”

“Thank you, chef.” She took them slowly and carefully, but she looked like she wanted to run up the stairs. 

“That’s right. Jamie’s first advantage was immunity from elimination.”

“But she also had a second advantage. Jamie got to pick which dish you will all be making. And I have to say, I think she picked,” Joe paused and tilted his head from side to side, “pretty strategically.”

Christina stepped forward to put her hand on the cover over the plate in front of them all. “You will be making….” She lifted the cover, “Five perfectly prepared churros. Fried golden brown, coated in cinnamon and sugar and served with a chocolate dipping sauce.”

“And you will have only thirty minutes to prepare them.” 

Dex took a deep breath and held it for a second as he let his eyes flutter closed in disbelief. He let the air out of his lungs slowly and opened his eyes. It was only just enough time. At least based on the recipe he knew. There was no room for mistakes. It was only the fourth episode, but they were already cutting the time frames to the bare minimum. 

No mistakes. No problem. Chill. To steal a phrase from Nursey.

“Your time starts….Now!”

Dex ran for the pantry, along with everyone else. He tried not to knock anyone over. It would be pretty easy to check someone, accidentally knock them into the wall or the doors. Sometimes in the brief moments before he fell asleep at night after the long hours of classes and filming (and conditioning, and torah study), he wondered if the producers were hoping that he would. Trying to devise a way to make it happen. 

So, he wasn’t running as fast as he could have been. He wasn’t jostling for position like some of the competitors. He wanted to win, he did. He wanted to win for Nursey and Chowder. But he knew how much it hurt to be checked into the boards, and the rest of these people didn’t. They weren’t athletes, they were moms and dads and call center workers and servers and accountants and a number of other things that didn’t give them the experience needed to take a body check from a two hundred pound D1 defenseman and not end up taken away by the medics. 

Winning wasn’t worth putting someone in the hospital. 

So, he ran a little slower. They’d set up tables with enough portions of all the ingredients that were absolutely necessary, so everyone could grab those. A few people grabbed a couple of other items as well, but Dex didn’t bother with that. He’d lost time running in and with no time to start over, he wasn’t going to risk experimentation.

* * *

“Yes! Kill it, Dexy!” Nursey jumped out of his chair and pumped his fist in the air.

Popcorn pelted into him. No, it rained over him. He turned and looked at the couch. The nearer brother, who he now knew was named Damon, was clutching the bowl of popcorn that he’d been snacking out of and glaring at Nursey. The bowl was nearly empty, and based on how much popcorn was scattered over the floor, it hadn’t been anywhere close to empty a few moments before. 

Nursey gave an apologetic grimace and slowly sat back down.

“We don’t even know how he did yet, bro. They just called time.” The other Ford brother, Joseph, was looking at him in vague amusement.

“Hockey players.”

Nursey settled back into the chair and turned away to cover the very hard eye roll that he gave that comment. For the most part, Denice and her family were chill. But they could really lay off with the comments about hockey players all being emotional. He wasn’t emotional because he was a hockey player. He was chill. Because he was Nursey. Because any time he wasn’t, people acted like he was too much and needed to stop. 

Or, most people. Not the Frogs. Not the Frogs.

The tasting was taking less and less time. Which made sense. People were going home right and left. 

When they announced the bottom three as Andy, Jen, and Tabbitha, Nursey finally felt like he could breathe again. It probably shouldn’t be this intense every time. What he needed was for Dex to have immunity every time. That would be ideal.

Then Jen and Tabbitha were taking off their aprons and Nursey was actually a little sad. “Tabbitha was in the audition round thing with Dex. She was nice.”

“It’s a competition. Better her than your partner, right?”

“Ch’yeah. Always.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Bro! This place is swawesome! Thanks for inviting us.”

Nursey greeted Ransom and Holster with fist bumps, then led them to the guest room in his parent’s Hudson Valley vacation home. “Of course, bro. Even consultants get to take a little vacay, right?”

When he turned to them as he opened the door, he was surprised to catch them exchanging a glance.

“Actually, I’m not a consultant anymore.” Ransom shrugged as he walked past to toss his bag into the room. “I applied to med schools again this past year and I’m starting in the fall.”

“And I’ve quit my job so that we can focus on finding a place near his new uni. I’ve got some interviews lined up.”

He needed to close his mouth. Staring wide eyed in shock wasn’t appropriate in this situation. “Chill. That’s so chill. Hey, let me know if you need a letter of recommendation or anything. I can write it and get my dad to sign.”

“Shit, yeah, bro. I’ll let you know.” Holster socked him in the shoulder in appreciation. “So, what do you do in this place?”

“I think there’s like canoeing or rafting or something. Probably some trail hikes or something. But for tonight, we’re watching Masterchef.”

“Wh-”

“Hells yeah we are. My boy Dex kicking _ass_.” Ransom raised his arms in a victory pose as he pushed past them back out into the hall. “Where’s the biggest tv in this place? I’ve got ass kicking to watch.”

* * *

Dex groaned as his alarm went off. It was too early. How was he managing to not hurt himself in the kitchen while functioning on less sleep than he normally got during the summer? He didn’t have an explanation and he was too tired to think about it much. Tired and weary. 

He’d been there for weeks. He’d missed Shavuot. Knowing that it was possible, that it was the desired situation if he wanted to win, was one thing. But actually missing it, when it had been special for the past couple of years, the first holiday back with his family after being away? He hadn’t expected the hollow ache from that. Shayan had tried to help him celebrate in their shared hotel room, but he had his own religious observances to try to keep up and Shavuot had been right after the start of Ramadan. 

He really hoped they could do something so that Shayan could celebrate Eid-al-fitr at least a little. 

With a sigh he rolled out of bed. He could worry while he did his conditioning.

* * *

The knife block at the front of the set was not a good sign. The knife block was used to randomly assign people to teams or to some sort of meat or fish or something to cook. Since they were only down to the top sixteen, Dex was pretty sure it was a team thing. 

“Normally, we use the tag team challenge as an elimination challenge after a mystery box. However, today, we’ve decided, it’s still an elimination challenge.”

“But there’s no mystery box, no immunity.” 

“Robbi and Raheem, you two had the most impressive churros last week, so you will get to choose your teammates. Everyone else will be paired up at random. Robbi, who would you like to choose as your teammate?”

Robbi stepped forward and looked around the gathered contestants. 

Will tried to look competent and approachable, but he wasn’t really surprised when she pointed with both hands at Na’Queena.

“I’ve gotta go with Queena. She’s really strong and also,” Robbi gave a smirk to the camera, “I know she can yell really loud, so if I’m about to mess anything up, I’ll hear her.”

“You know you will.” Na’Queena moved to stand beside Robbi.

“Raheem, who would you like to work with?”

Raheem took a deep breath and nodded to himself. “I’m going to go with Jamie. She was really quick and had those perfect knife cuts last week. I think that’s a great skill to have no matter what we end up making for the challenge.”

“Good strategy, both of you.”

The four of them moved off to the side as the rest of the contestants lined up in front of the stage area where the knife block was set up. 

“The rest of you will draw a knife from the block to be randomly assigned to a team based on matching the color of your knife blade. Jerry, please come draw your knife.”

They shuffled through, everyone drawing knives and pairing up as they found matching sets until everyone had their partner. Then Joe stepped forward with a fake thoughtful expression. 

“Oh, and one more thing, both members of the bottom team will be eliminated. You’re competing specifically as a team in this challenge.”

* * *

Sam’s annoying face was on the screen as he gave his confessional thing or whatever.

“All I’m thinking as I draw my knife is ‘please not with Will please not Will.’ Like, the guy is an okay cook for frats I guess, but he’s horrible at taking directions.” 

The show cut back to Sam pulling out a knife with a green blade, matching Will’s, then back to Sam in the confessional.

“[Bleep]. Of course. Of [bleep] course. It had to be him. He better not get me sent home.”

Nursey took a deep breath and closed his eyes, then applied slight pressure with one finger to the corner of his left eye to try to get it to stop twitching.

“ _He_ better not get _you_ sent home? Bro, he’s the only reason you _won_ the last team challenge. You don’t know what the fuck you’re doing.” 

“Oh my god, dude. There is a _reason_ he was voted captain of the SMH team by people who _know_ him and it’s because he knows what the actual fuck he’s doing.”

It was nice to have Ransom and Holster there. People who knew Dex and would yell at the tv for him and wouldn’t think he was overreacting by getting upset when some random asshole talked shit about Dex on national television. 

Still, he took another deep breath. “The producers probably provoked that. They want drama for ratings. It’s just drama for ratings. We can’t hunt down where he lives and put frozen fish in his attic.”

When he opened his eyes, both Ransom and Holster were staring at him.

“Frozen fish in his attic? Bro?”

“Unless the attic is finished to be a bedroom, it’s usually not as well insulated and will be hotter than the rest of the house. The fish will thaw out, do some water damage depending on how big of a chunk of ice it’s in, but it’s a balance right? If there’s too much water damage, they’ll discover the fish just from the melting. Then the fish will start to go nasty and the smell will permeate the house. If we can get it near a vent, even better.”

“Seriously, bro? Why would you know this?”

Nursey stopped and considered what he’d just said. “I…. Are C and Farms a bad influence?”

Ransom frowned. “That doesn’t seem likely.”

“Then maybe I picked up from Tumblr.”

* * *

Dex closed his eyes to keep from rolling them and stretched his fingers out against his thighs. Sam had just flat out ignored him about needing to get a pot of water boiling and start prepping some dough for the stuff that needed to go into the oven. He probably hadn’t even turned the oven on yet so it could heat up. No. He’d started pan frying. 

Sure, his technique was great. Everything was put together well and he was frying at the correct temperature for the correct amount of time. Dex couldn’t argue with how the food was coming out. Except that it should have been the last thing done, not the first. Now they were going to sit in oil and get greasy and cold while the rest of the competition time counted down. 

Finally, they called the switch and Dex ran over to the cooking area. He threw a pot into the sink and turned the water on full blast, reached over to the oven to get it preheating, then turned off the water and moved the pot to the range. After making sure the correct burner was on to heat it, he started mixing things together while shaking his head.

“What are you doing? Idiot! You’re letting it burn!”

Dex took a deep breath, then reached over and turned off the burner under the oil before carefully lifting what was now more of a briquette than a food item from the oil and taking it to the trash. Why on earth Sam put something in to fry right before time was called was anyone’s guess.

“Are you trying to make us lose?”

Finally, he turned to stare at Sam, while starting to work the dough again. “I am _trying_ to get the things done that require thirty minutes to complete instead of working on things that will end up a congealed and nasty mess if they are prepared now.” He turned back to what he was working on. “I don’t care if you want to fry the dumplings, just please consider time management first.”

* * *

Dex was staring at the camera in the confessional area and just shaking his head.

No, Dex was staring through the camera. 

Holster was the one to break the silence in the vacation cabin. “Just to make sure I’m right, if Sam gets Dex sent home, we’re definitely doing that fish thing, right?”

“Yup.”

“Ch’yeah.”

“Swawesome.”

The time finally ticked down and somehow, Dex and Sam had a full platter to present to the judges. Well, Nursey was pretty sure the “how” was really “Dex”, because Sam seemed to hinder him more than anything by refusing to work together. It just made no sense at all. They’d worked together on the food truck challenge, why not now? Did one of the producers rile him up about Dex back seat captaining? Like, seriously, it wasn’t a weakness to realize that you made mistakes. Only a weakness to not learn from them. 

“There were two teams tonight who presented us with frankly disappointing platters. These platters were supposed to be representative of the global community and Masterchef International. Instead, they’re just sad.”

“Sam and Will. You two spent more time butting heads than you did cooking. Your arguing could send you right back home.”

“Robbi and NaQueena. You suffered from a number of errors and failed to communicate vital information to each other, resulting in bland, or in some cases inedible food.”

“The team that is going home tonight is….”

And they cut to commercial. 

“He can’t be sent home. He just can’t. He’s too good. Right? He’s too good to be sent home at this point.”

“Bro, it’s ok. He’s got this. He’s definitely got this. We’ve all tasted his food. Even if they didn’t match the platter exactly, there’s no way his stuff didn’t taste better. It’s good. It’s all good.”

Nursey nodded slowly. “Right. It’s chill. It’s chill.”

The show came back then and Nursey’s gaze was riveted.

“The team that is going home tonight is… Robbi and NaQueena. There were entire components missing and the ones that were there were underseasoned and undercooked. I’m sorry. Please remove your aprons and leave the Masterchef Kitchen.”

The two women nodded and Robbi carefully wiped away a tear before it could smear her makeup, then they walked back to their cooking station, removed their aprons and left. 

“Sam and Will. You are so lucky that you had at least one of each item on your platter. You are so lucky that someone else did worse than you today. That performance, that lack of teamwork, should be enough to send you home. But today, you’re safe. Do better. Tomorrow you might not be so lucky.”

Nursey let out a huge breath and sunk back into his chair. 

“You know, I think maybe this show isn’t healthy for you to watch, bro.”

He couldn’t really deny it. “Ch’yeah. I get mad tense. But it’s chill. It’s Dex, right? He’s my liney. He’d have my back.” 

“Ch’yeah man. You know he would. Listen, does this place have a hot tub? What you could use is a soak, bro.”


	7. Chapter 7

Nursey arrived in Dex’s hometown before noon, which was chill. It was chill. Being early was chill. It was Dex’s family, they probably expected people to be early. But there was early and there was _early_ , so Nursey figured that they always said to try the lobster in Maine. He found a likely looking shack with signs that said “lobster” and “open” and stopped for a lobster roll. 

There were only a couple of people working there, and the woman who served up his roll and rang him up raised an eyebrow at him. “You know Will’s not in town this summer, right?”

It took him a moment to move past the confusion. “Ch’yeah. I’m visiting his family, actually.”

“Oh, well, that’s nice.” She smiled and handed him his food and more change than he’d expected back. 

Did the people in Dex’s town know that he had a crush on Dex? Were his heart eyes that obvious even to strangers even when Dex wasn’t around? Did _Dex_ know and had told his entire town but hadn’t let on to Nursey because… why would he? He didn’t return the feelings. They were friends. It was chill. They were friends and maybe Dex was gossiping about him and his stupid crush to an entire town in Maine. 

He couldn’t spare any thoughts for explaining to the cashier that she’d given him the wrong change, so he just dumped it all in the tip jar and headed outside to eat his lobster roll. 

Dex wouldn’t gossip about him, right? Like, no, Dex was more chill than that. If Dex knew about his crush he’d-. What would he do? He’d tell Nursey to stop it. He’d ignore it and hoped it went away. He wouldn’t tell his _entire_ town. 

So it was probably just that his crush was so obvious that astronauts and cosmonauts and whoever on the International Space Station were discussing how hopeless he was. Which meant there was no way he’d be able to hide it from Dex’s sister or uncles.

Coming here was a mistake.

* * *

Will filed into the sound stage with the rest of the contestants and made his way to his station. The station next to him was empty. They were down to the top fourteen and after the elimination challenge today, they’d have half as many contestants as they’d started with.

The fact that they were on what must have been the halfway point episode, combined with the fact that there was a giant box on the stage at the front of the kitchen instead of the regular small mystery boxes on their stations to make Dex nervous. Those big boxes usually had a person under them. Specifically, a new celebrity chef to act as a guest judge. 

True, maybe it was a pile of potatoes, or an entire cow or something. They did a lot of weird things, especially around the middle of the season. They had to keep the viewers interested. 

He took a deep breath in. It would be fine. The stakes might be higher and the producers might be trying to apply more pressure, but it would be fine. 

He let the breath out. Even if he was eliminated, he’d made it further than he’d thought possible, really. He was a nobody, an unknown, a frat boy hockey player. He wasn’t the kind of guy that they wanted winning their fancy award and a lot of money. But he’d proven himself. He’d done well enough that he wouldn’t be letting Nursey and Chowder down. Probably. 

It would be wicked cool to be in the finale and have them up in the balcony cheering for him.

* * *

Vicky greeted him at the door with a fist bump, then led him into the den. The chairs were already taken by two men, one who looked middle aged and the other probably ten or fifteen years older than the first. Vicky folded herself into one corner of the couch, pulling her feet up under her and wrapping her arms around a little accent pillow. 

“Derek, this is Uncle Mel and Uncle Ethen.” She indicated the older of the two first. “This is Derek, the brother I always wanted.”

The comment still made him laugh and roll his eyes. She’d been making that joke since approximately the second week that they’d known each other. Well, the second week after they’d met in person. They’d texted and snapped before that because she was a great source for info and updates about Dex over the break. She’d claimed that it was her duty as the older twin to make sure his friends knew what a dork he was. 

“Doesn’t that joke not work as well when Will isn’t around to know you wanted a different brother?” He settled onto the other end of the couch, one leg pulled up under his other thigh.

She raised her brows at him. “Thing about brothers is, I can still get another one.”

That didn’t make sense; he was pretty sure that their mom wasn’t planning on having any more kids. He shot her a confused frown.

“Next time, maybe pick a smarter brother to want.” 

Chill, that was rude. He looked at Uncle Mel slowly, but instead of a judgemental look or any kind of disdain or dislike, he was greeted by subdued amusement and a crooked smile very similar to Dex’s. 

“This one’s good. And kinda hoping there won’t be a next time.”

“Ah well. I was hoping you’d end up with at least one brother with some sense.”

The grin that spread across Vicky’s face was devilish. “Come on, Uncle Mel, you know only the women in the family have any sense.”

Both Mel and Ethen let out full roars of laughter at that. Nursey tried to chuckle along, but he was starting to get the feeling that he was missing something about Vicky’s joke. Luckily, the intro to the show started and everyone settled down to watch.

* * *

Dex had missed whatever intro the judges had given, but the giant box started lifting. He thought his eyes might pop out of his head in shock and it was suddenly very difficult to take a full breath. A large number of feet had appeared, then legs, torsos, faces. He could hazard a guess about who they all were because he recognized one immediately. 

“It’s your mums!”

Dex was not paying attention to Gordon. He was using all of his willpower to wait at his station for his ma to walk over, but he still met her at the end of the counter to wrap his arms around her. 

“How are you here, Ma? How’d you get off work? I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I missed Shavous with you.” He was mumbling into the top of her hair, because that’s what he could reach, but he didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want to share his reunion with the stupid cameras that kept zooming in on them.

“It’s ok, Will. It’s ok. There will be other years.”

“I know, but this is the last-”

“There will be other years. You aren’t going to forget about me after you graduate. I won’t let you.”

He laughed at that and it was only a little damp, so he was fine. “No, I won’t forget you. I’ll visit every year. I’ll visit all the time. You’ll beg me to leave.”

“Sounds right.” She poked his side and he relaxed his arms so that she could pull away a bit. “I’m really proud of you. We all are. You’re doing amazing. You’ve done amazing.” 

“Thanks.” His ears burned a little and he knew that he was blushing. He felt like a little kid almost and he ducked his head to hide the smile he knew was growing.

“Mums, please head up to the balcony. Unfortunately, your darling chefs still need to make your dinner!”

His ma gave him one last squeeze and then walked away to head up to the balcony. 

With a shake of his head, he refocused on the judges to hear the challenge.

* * *

Dex wasn’t looking at the camera, he was covering his mouth and looking at a space lower than the camera, but then he looked up with a visible effort and lowered his hand.

“My Ma, she just.” He stopped and swallowed, shaking his head and looking off to the side of the camera this time. “She taught me to cook. And then, you know for a while it was just her taking care of my brother and sister and me. She’s given everything for us. You know she’d-” He broke off again and audible sniffed before blinking rapidly. 

“She’d go without eating to make sure we had enough. And things are better. My uncles help and us kids have been able to work and we’re grown now. But. She’s just wicked great. She’s. She’s my ma.” 

He nodded briefly and his eyes were visibly glassy with wetness. “There aren’t a lot of things I’d hate more than letting her down. I can’t. Whatever this challenge is, I can’t mess it up. When she’s done so much.”

He pressed his lips together and his jaw tightened as the camera lingered on his face. 

Then it cut to commercial. 

“Ah, Will. Ten ply.” Mel sighed and shook his head, but he was smiling that soft crooked smile again.

Nursey let out a long breath. It felt like his eyebrows had climbed into his hair and hadn’t returned yet. “I can’t believe they got him to cry on national television. He’s going to hate that.”

Vicky tilted her head back and forth. 

Ethen had turned in his chair and was scrutinizing Nursey at this point. “You sure about your earlier statement, Vicks?”

“Ayuh. Not like I get the choice anyway.”

“Hmm.” He pressed his lips together. “You play with Will. You like hockey. Who’s your team?”

Nursey blinked at the topic change. “Uh, chill. I grew up watching the Rangers, NYC, right? And Lundqvist is mad talented. Basically a legend. But lately I’ve been following the Caps and Holtby.”

Ethen’s lips somehow managed to become an even thinner line for a moment. “So, you like the goalies?”

“I mean, ch’yeah? I know I’m a dman, but gotta support the goalies.”

Ethen regarded him for another moment, then glanced over at Vicky. “Ayuh. You may be right.”

* * *

Making his ma’s whoopie pie recipe taste good wasn’t a problem. As long as he didn’t mess up while making it, it was a solid, quality, recipe that tasted wicked great. It was definitely restaurant quality.

The problem was that Dex was pretty sure that the judges didn’t go to the same kinds of restaurants that he did. Which meant he needed to figure out how to make whoopie pies pretentious. 

But it was okay. Dex had a plan. Nursey’s mom had taken the Frogs all out for dinner once after a game, so he was pretty sure he had a handle on what made a dessert “restaurant quality.” He just needed to make it taste good, which was already covered, then make it smaller and put some fancy elements on the plate. 

Which is why the whoopie pies he was assembling were the size of macarons. Mini whoopie pies weren’t unheard of either, but he made them as close to perfect as possible. Then, he dusted the plate with cinnamon before arranging the whoopie pies on it artfully. One last dollop of the inner cream to provide visual interest and balance to the arc of pies he’d made and his hands were in the air when time was called. 

He was a little surprised when it was Christina who stepped up to taste his dish when he took it to the front to present. Not overly surprised, she was the dessert expert, but mostly he’d been judged by Joe, so he’d thought there was some producer reason for that. 

“I’ve prepared for you pumpkin and cinnamon mini whoopie pies with a cream filling.”

“I have to say, I wasn’t expecting anyone to have a family recipe for macarons.”

Dex tilted his head with a small shrug and a slight raise of his eyebrows. “Not exactly macarons, chef. My family isn’t quite that French. But my ma does make a wicked great whoopie pie, it was her ma’s recipe and she taught it to me. It’s more traditional to go with chocolate, but I wanted to present you with something a little different.” 

Christina had cut one of the whoopie pies in half and was positioning it on her fork when she looked back up at him. “Joe would tell you that pumpkin is a fall flavor.”

“I respect Joe’s opinion on a lot of things, especially about cooking. But he and I may have to disagree on that. Pumpkin is delicious all year.” He clasped his hands behind his back to fight the urge to fidget with them and tried to look unfazed as she took her bite.

She chewed slowly and thoughtfully. “I have to say, I agree. These are delicious in any season.”

“Thank you, Chef.” He stepped back to his station.

The rest of the contestants continued the slow process of taking their dishes up to the front to be judged and Dex just focused on counting his breaths. Christina had liked his dish. Christina had agreed that it was delicious. She hadn’t had anything bad to say about it. No matter what, he hadn’t let his ma down.

He risked a glance at the balcony and saw her smiling back. He hadn’t let his ma down.

* * *

Nursey’s bottom lip was between his teeth and he was barely resisting the urge to bite down on it. He’d already had to shove his hands under his thighs to make sure he didn’t chew his nails off. 

Dex was standing beside two other contestants in front of the judges and suspenseful music was playing. 

“The winner of tonight’s mystery box challenge is, Will.”

Immediately, Will’s head dropped as he lifted a fist up flat against his chest. Then he turned and nodded at his mom in the balcony before turning back to the judges. 

“Thank you judges.”

“You will receive one advantage for this win. You will not be cooking in the elimination challenge.”

Dex smiled and nodded, but if he said anything, Nursey couldn’t hear it. He was too busy whooping with Vicky, Ethen, and Mel.

Finally, they quieted down as the camera recentered on the judges. “Instead, we have prepared a table for you and your mother in the wine room. Please make your way there.” 

Nursey immediately tuned out the rest of the words. None of the rest of it was important. Dex had won the first challenge and had immunity. He still watched as the camera followed him and his mom into the room, but when it refocused to start the elimination challenge, he didn’t bother at all.

Mel had also turned away from the television and was looking at them thoughtfully. “It occurs to me that I haven’t eaten yet, and we seem to have sent our best cooks to California.”

“I picked up a box of candies earlier that we can have for dessert, if you guys want. And I can drive into town and pick up take out. Is there anything you guys want in particular?”

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”  
“Candies?”  
“Did you forget that you’re a guest?”

Somehow, Vicky, Ethen, and Mel all managed to talk over each other and he wasn’t completely sure he’d sorted out what they’d all said, so he just raised an eyebrow at them all.

“What exactly do you mean by candies?”

It was a weird thing to ask, but he leaned over to dig in his bag, which he hadn’t managed to put away, just dropped at the end of the couch, and pulled out the box of candies.

“You bought-.” Ethen stopped and blinked a few times. “You bought an entire box of needhams?”

Mel had his hand to his forehead and was shaking it slowly. Finally, he looked up at Vicky. “You're sure this is the one that should be your brother?”

“I take back what I said about him being smarter than he appears." She turned to Nursey and took a deep breath. “Where’d you get those?”

“I stopped in a town further south. An hour or so before I got here? Why?”

She pushed to her feet and pointed at Nursey. “Just making sure. _You_ can eat those. _I’m_ going to go get take out since no one trusts you to do it even if they would agree to let you buy it. Which we wouldn’t.”

Nursey looked between Ethen and Mel as Vicky walked out. It didn’t make sense. They were making a really big deal out of a box of chocolate candies. A nice box of chocolate candies, even. It wasn’t the most expensive box of chocolate he’d ever bought, but it wasn’t like he’d picked the cheapest one either. 

Mel raised a shoulder in a shrug. “You’re confused. Try one and you won’t be.”

He opened the box and lifted one of the chocolates to his mouth. Almost immediately after biting into it, he spit the bite back into his hand. “Why is there potato in this chocolate?”

Mel nodded slowly. “That’s needhams.”

“The coconut I understand. The blueberry I understand, though, not with the coconut. But potato?”

“I just can’t believe they got you for an entire box.”


	8. Chapter 8

Samwell Hillel

> Michal: The previews for this week got me excited!

> Rachel: And confused. Why is there a Pesach episode in July?

> Dave: Goyim can’t read calendars.

> Theo: [Bernie meme: I am once again asking goyim to learn to read a calendar]

> Jared: It’s even on _their_ calendars. wtf?

> Omar: Is Micah a MOT? We should support him

> Aaron: But Will is ours.

> Omar: Yeah. We’re here for Will, but like, ten people aren’t going home. We can want Micah to be one of them.

> David: Is Adina going to be here? Should someone call her?

> Rachel: She’s traveling or something. She’s probably recording to watch later

> David: Cool.

> Cody: bah. They gave them a sheet with rules. Should have just said the rules and hoped they remembered.

> Hailey: Do we know if they even actually got all the mitzvah?

> Jared: Did they kasher the stoves and ovens?

> Michal: I wonder if they restocked the pantry to be kosher l’Pesach, or if the contestants have to check themselves

> Dave: ngl, kind of hope they have to check themselves.

> Sara: The true Pesach experience, spending twice as long to find the ingredients you need.

> Aaron: Rude that they aren’t able to prep things a couple days ahead.

* * *

Of course, Joe waited until Dex was pouring the eggs into the boiling water to approach him. “So, what are you making for Passover?”

It took effort not to make a face at that. It wasn’t Pesach. But Shayan’s advice still rang in his mind. Don’t let them know about your religion, they’ll use it against you. And it was true, he’d seen the producers trying to push Shayan through noon prayers or to cook with haram meat. Besides, Dex had cooked and tasted a lot of nonkosher foods on the show, and declaring himself Jewish at this point would violate maris ayin. 

“The Passover dish I’m preparing is matzah brei eggs benedict.” He kept his eyes focused on the eggs and kept stirring to make sure they came out right. Just being able to poach an egg correct had been a challenge in previous seasons, the last thing he wanted was to mess it up as a component.

Joe was sampling his hollandaise sauce and raising his eyebrows. “That’s an interesting dish.”

“Ayuh. Decided to forgo the meat dishes.”

“Have you made this before?” 

There it was. Joe was trying to be sneaky but Dex was making matzah brei and that wasn’t a dish that had been covered in their many classes, so he wanted to make Dex admit to something.

“Ayuh. One of my captains a couple of years ago was Jewish. Well, he still is as far as I know. There’s been at least one Jewish guy on the team the whole time I’ve been there. It’s a liberal arts college, diversity happens.”

* * *

> Jared: Wow. Seriously?

> Sara: Shocking revelation, there has been at least one Jewish player on every team that Will was on!

> Michal: How could this happen?

> Dave: What are the odds?

> David: Somehow both very high and very low.

> Dave: Oh yeah, he’s from Maine

> Jared: [Image: Newsflash Asshole meme edited to say “I’ve been Jewish the whole time”]

* * *

“You have both meat and dairy on this plate.”

“Yes, Chef, the cheese brings out the flavor of the meat while mellowing some of the spices.” 

Dex winced at Kimora’s comment. He couldn’t help himself, but it was also a small movement of the face, and probably went unnoticed. 

“Mixing meat and dairy isn’t kosher. Did you even read the rules that we put on your station?”

“Um, yes, Chef. I don’t remember seeing that. I just, it tastes better with cheese.”

Gordon took a deep breath, then slowly took a bite. “It’s a shame. It tastes delicious. But you failed the challenge. If this was an elimination challenge, you would be facing the possibility of going home.” He shook his head. “Return to your station. Do better.”

“Yes, Chef. Thank you, Chef.”

Gordon stepped back, looking disappointed with the world and Joe stepped forward.

“Will.”

Dex took a deep breath and relaxed his shoulders before walking his dish up to the judging table. 

“I’ve prepared for you matzah brei eggs benedict with asparagus and lox.”

Joe started cutting into the dish. “And you learned this from one of your Jewish teammates?”

“Actually, I learned this recipe from my friend Sara. But I have made a version of it for my teammates.”

Joe put the forkful of food into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. Finally, he finished and looked at Dex again. “I thought you were supposed to just be a hockey playing frat boy.”

Dex shook his head in response. “I never said that, Chef.”

“I see. Thank you, Will.”

“Thank you, Chef.”

“Don’t go too far. Micah and Shayan, please come up.” Gordon and Christina had both stepped up beside Joe. 

The camera must have cut away because a production assistant ran over and removed the judging table.

When they were all lined up in front of the judges, Gordon continued. “The three of you had today’s most successful dishes. Please give us a moment to confer.”

The judges stepped back and made a show of talking to each other out of earshot while a cameraperson circled them. After a few moments, they returned to the front. 

Gordon stepped forward again. “Will, you won last week’s mystery box challenge.”

“Yes, Chef.”

“You, young man, are someone the rest of your competitors would do well to watch. You’ve won this challenge and are safe from elimination. Please head up to the balcony.”

* * *

> Sara: Joe likes my eggs benedict.

> Sara: My matzah brei is a winner

> Sara: I’ve single handedly saved Will

> Hailey: I don’t think that last one is true

> Jared: Yeah, he also called you his friend, so

> Sara: We’re friends! We’re all friends here

> Cody: You guys, they have to cook cheese blintzes for Shavuos now

> Theo: Can someone _please_ teach these goyim to read a calendar?

> Omar: Am I allowed to want Micah to win now?

> Rebekka: Yeah, we can cheer for Micah now

> Rachel: Ok, but Shayan wasn’t wrong for going with a veggie dish

> Michal: Just because that’s how you make sure to stay kosher

> Rachel: It’s a solid strategy

> Sara: Just not as good as my recipe

> Jared: When Will makes it? sure.

> Sara: [angry emoji face]


	9. Chapter 9

The Tangredi house was not what Nursey expected, but at the same time, it was exactly what he expected. That should have been a paradox, but it wasn’t. It was large and full of people, but it was also pretty quiet. They ended up in a small den with just the two of them and Tango’s Nonna. 

The old woman patted the seat of the couch next to her as they entered. “Sit here by me, Derek.” 

Her English was clear, but still strongly accented. Nursey knew immigrants that had lost their accent much quicker and he figured that she either must have kept it on purpose or maybe just didn’t _try_ to lose it.

He only hesitated a moment before sitting beside her. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Nonna T, it was just that he’d kind of learned to be suspicious of anyone trying to get him to sit next to them when he didn’t already know them well. 

The show was starting, but she leaned over conspiratorially. “My Tony says that we have to root for your friend Will. That so?”

“You can root for whoever you want, but Will’s the best and will definitely win. In case you care about that.”

She looked at him for a moment before nodding. “He made my tiramisu. Not too shabby. And easy on the eyes, no?”

Her smile was knowing and Nursey was starting to grow wary of her for a completely different reason than originally. 

“Ch’yeah. I guess so.”

“Hmm. Yes. We will root for your friend Will.” 

“Nonna T loves the chef shows. She tells the contestants how they are doing things wrong and the judges how they don’t know what they are talking about.” Tango finally joined the conversation, not soon enough to save Nursey from his Nonna’s sneaky questions, but finally. 

“Eh, Joseph should know better what makes good food.”

“Ch’yeah. They get mad caught up in ratings and drama instead of just making it about the food.”

“Americans and ratings.” 

“Why is Gordon Ramsay on a zamboni? Is that for ratings?”

Nursey looked up at the television at Tango’s question to see that Gordon was, indeed, riding a zamboni out onto the ice in a hockey arena. 

“Hello chefs! You might have noticed that we are not in the Masterchef Kitchen today.” He carefully climbed down to a carpet that was laid out on the ice, where he was joined by Joe and Christina. 

“I think they realized that when we put them on a plane, Gordon.”

“Ice hockey is one of the most popular sports in northern states, but it’s growing in popularity across the country, and indeed, around the world.”

The camera cut over to the contestants when Joe finished reciting facts about hockey, and then it zoomed in on Dex, with a voice over. “Ayuh. It’s been awhile since I’ve been in an arena and it would be wicked nice to get some ice time in. Maybe if we win.”

“Today you will be cooking for one hundred people. Hockey players, recruits, coaching and support staff, and the office staff. The entire team.”

“Hockey burns a lot of calories, but these guys are on a diet plan, so keep that in mind while you develop your menus. Micah, Skyla, with the best two dishes last week, you will be our team captains. Micah, please select your first team member.”

“Raheem.”

“He should have picked Will. What’s wrong with him?” Nonna T was rolling her eyes very hard at the tv and Nursey agreed.

* * *

“Ok, so, we’re going to do crispy skin salmon. Kimora, you’re on that.”

“I don’t-”

Skyla didn’t let Kimora finish talking. “I’m the captain, hm? So, you’re on the crispy skin salmon. Mari, you help her. Will, I want you making fingerling potatoes with rosemary, and Shayan, you’ll be making haricot vert.”

Will kept his face blank. A captain who didn’t listen to feedback from their team wasn’t the worst scenario, possibly. But he couldn’t help looking at Kimora. It had sounded a lot like she wanted to question either what station she was put at or the decision to make crispy skin salmon at all. It wouldn’t have been his choice, keeping the servings consistent for a hundred plates was going to be difficult. But he wasn’t the captain. 

“I’ll make a citrus beurre blanc to go with it. Stop standing around, get to work. We need to get things ready so we can produce a full plate for the judges. Go go go.”

They all hurried to start prepping food. Regardless of what issues they could see looming with Skyla, she wasn’t listening and they had a limited amount of time before they needed to have food ready to serve. 

It did not get better from there.

At first it wasn’t bad. Mari and Kimora found a rhythm together and Skyla was busy with her sauce, so Will was able to focus on preparing the potatoes and chopping the rosemary and getting his part ready feeling pretty good about how everyone else was doing. He made sure to glance around every now and then to see if anyone was struggling and not saying anything, but they looked good.

Until it was time to start plating.

“Mari, I want you up here helping me plating now. Kimora should be able to handle the salmon.”

“You want one person to handle keeping up with the salmon and making sure the skins are consistently crispy?”

“I didn’t stutter, Mari.”

Mari shook her head and Will was pretty sure she muttered something about it being ridiculous or something. He wasn’t exactly great at reading lips. Still, she washed her hands and joined Skyla at the plating table. 

“Make sure all the ‘M’s are facing the same direction. Fifteen at a time.”

It didn’t fall apart immediately. That would have made it too obvious. The first fifteen plates went out fine. The second set of fifteen plates had Joe back to yell at them.

“Why were there no potatoes on two of the plates? These plates have to be exactly the same. Do _not_ send out incomplete plates again.”

A few minutes later, Gordon came back to drop two plates on the table. “This fish is raw! Feel that, it is ice cold in the middle. Come on people!”

“It will not happen again, Chef.” Skyla was the picture of contriteness, right up until she turned around to Kimora. “You can’t give me raw fish! This isn’t sushi. What’s wrong with you?”

Dex set down his work and headed over toward them. In his peripheral vision, he saw Shayan moving that way as well. Before either of them reached Kimora and Skyla, although they were only a few feet away, Mari yelled back at her.

“What’s wrong with _you_? I _saw_ you take fish off her station so you could send the last batch out when you hadn’t made sure to have enough again after Chef Bastianich yelled at you. I thought you at least had the sense to make sure they were cooked through.”

While Gordon and Mari sorted out what had happened with Skyla and the fish, Shayan took over cooking the fish (they couldn’t be left unsupervised and took too long to lose time not cooking), and Dex walked a little bit away with Kimora.

“Hey. She’s an ass. You didn’t do anything wrong, ok?”

Kimora wiped at her eyes ineffectually. “She is an ass. I’m doing my best to keep up and her yelling at me and micromanaging me isn’t helping.”

He grimaced and reached into the front pocket of his jeans to pull out a handkerchief for her to use to wipe her eyes. He was glad he’d brought it with him, even if it did still feel weird to not have it in his back pocket like usual. “You’ve been doing great. With the amount of work making crispy skin salmon is, it’s a two person job to keep up with the plating speed she wants. She should have either picked something that could have more done at once, or had someone else helping you.”

“I didn’t even want to do the fish! It makes me sick.” Her hand clenched around the handkerchief and her jaw set with only a slight tremble. 

“Right. You were going to say something before we started and she cut you off.” He glanced back over at the work stations. They’d already taken a minute and really should get back to work. “Do you think you can handle the green beans and potatoes at the same time? Most of that was prep work stuff, which is done, so if you can manage the actual finishing off on those, Shayan and I will take the salmon, ok?”

“Yeah. That would- Thanks, Will.” Her head only came up to his chest as she wrapped her arms around him in a fierce hug and all he could manage in response was a reassuring pat and clasp of hand on her arm. 

“Let’s wash our hands and get back to work. She might not care about the team, but it would be wicked great if we could win this.”

With a nod, she handed back his handkerchief and they moved back into the main cooking area to wash up and get back to work.

“That’s enough. You are no longer team captain.”

Apparently they were back just in time to catch the tail end of whatever drama had played out between Skyla, Mari, and Gordon. 

“Blue Team! Pick a new team captain. Now please.”

“Will.” Shayan’s soft voice beside him was a shock and Will nearly fumbled the piece of salmon he was working with.

“Will.” Mari was nodding at the plating table. “He had good ideas in the food truck.”

“Will.” Kimora’s vote was a long stronger than her voice had been a minute before when they started talking. 

“If that’s what you all want. Kimora is taking over the haricot vert and potatoes. Shayan and I are on the salmon. You two continue plating. Mari, please have eyes on every plate that goes out. Skyla-” He let out a breath. “Skyla, you do have a good eye for plating. Remember we only win or lose as a team today.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“Well, I don’t want to face elimination just because you can’t work as a team. The rest of these chefs don’t deserve that. So, step up your game, if for no other reason than to save your own neck, or go find some place else to be out of the way.”

* * *

“Ah, that’s nice. Gentle but firm. Good to have a man who knows when to use the velvet and when the steel, yes?” Nonna T’s elbow poked Nursey in the side, just in case he’d missed that her comment was for him. Her eyes were twinkling with mischievousness.

“Ch’yeah. He’s mad good at figuring out what people want and need. How to make them better. How to make himself better. That’s why we all voted for him. Right, Tony?”

“Uh huh. Also, he’s got soft hands on the stick, too. Gets some dirty plays with it.”

Nonna T was vibrating with barely contained glee at Tango’s addition. Which was a completely true set of statements to make about Dex’s ice hockey. Nonna T just didn’t seem to be thinking about hockey. 

“Ch’yeah. He’s a good hockey player. And a good chef.”

“And pretty good at taking charge.”

Nursey opened his mouth to respond then closed it. “He doesn’t want to be. He thinks other people are better.”

“Bah. He just needs people to show him their support. Like those. That Mari, she said why she picked him.”

That actually did bear thinking about. “Chill. When he knows people believe in him, he rises to the challenge. I mean, he does anyway because he works harder than god-zilla.” He cut a look over at Nonna T, unsure of how strict she was about the ‘taking names in vain’ thing, but she seemed to be rolling with it. “He doesn’t want to let people down.”

She patted his knee with one wrinkled hand. “Would probably not hurt to know he’s not alone.”

“Oh! That reminds me. Nonna, Scraps visited Samwell a few months ago and we think we might be related. Do you know if we are?” 

“I need a real name, Tonio.”

* * *

“These are good to go.” 

The servers loaded up with the plates and walked away at Mari’s words.

A few moments later, Gordon came back to their cooking area. “Congratulations. You have finished serving one hundred people. Start breaking down and cleaning up while everyone finishes eating and we decide on a winner.”

Mari turned and gave high fives to Dex and Shayan. “We did it. Hopefully it was good enough.” 

Everyone was murmuring agreements and Dex gave a small shrug.

“It was or it wasn’t. We can’t change it now. We can’t change how well the other team did. We did the best we could and we made some good food.” 

The words weren’t hollow. He did believe them. He just also wasn’t sure if he’d really feel like it was enough to have done his best if his best wasn’t good enough. He certainly hadn’t when they lost the championship game in ‘15. 

But he was going to worry enough for all of them, regardless. If they could relax a little and feel good about the food they’d made, no need for everyone to worry.

He turned back to the stove and oven he’d been using and made sure everything was turned off and any remaining food was disposed of properly.

There wasn’t much time before they were led out to meet the team that they’d cooked for. It was weird that they apparently had lunch on the ice, while the contestants had been cooking down the tunnels. Or maybe they’d eaten in a lounge somewhere or something and then came down to the seats to cheer on the contestants as they stood on the carpet just off center ice.

“Both teams worked hard today. Both teams overcame adversity. But in the end, there can be only one winning team. Kent, would you do the honors?”

“Love to, Chef.”

Kent Parson took a lap around the rink, showing off his speed and edges, along with some puck handling skills, then headed in and shot off a wrister at a box in the crease. On impact, the box burst open, spilling out red powder and confetti.

It only felt a little bit like he’d taken the puck to the chest.

Kent skated over, stopping right next to Gordon and spraying him with a little snow in the process, before leaning on his stick with a cocky grin. “There you have it. Aces’ red wins.”

A moment later, his grin faltered. “Wait, Samwell? Dex, right?”

A producer yelled at the camera operators to cut to other footage as everyone turned to follow Kent’s gaze, right to Dex. 

He was immediately hurried into an office with Gordon and some of the other producers. 

“How do you know Kent Parson?”

“Why didn’t we know you knew Kent Parson?”

“Is this a breach of contract?”

Dex looked between them all and took a deep breath. “I don’t really know Kent Parson. I met him _one_ time at a party at college, my Freshman year, so two and a half years ago. I’m surprised he remembers what I look like, much less my name.”

He paused with a thoughtful frown. “Well, unless maybe the Aces are thinking of scouting me. That’s- I guess that’s technically possible.”

There was a general murmur, but no new questions were flung his way, so he continued. “I am pretty sure you knew that I went to Samwell, and that I played with Jack Zimmermann my Freshman year. I don’t remember the paperwork asking about who I know that’s famous, but I mean, I’ve vaguely met a lot of hockey players at this point, and probably some other famous people that I don’t know the names of because Samwell has some high profile alums.”

They all leaned in together and started talking quietly again. At one point he was pretty sure he heard Gordon say “at least his team didn’t win, so it can’t be called favoritism.” 

Dex rolled his eyes, but had to concede the point. If they’d won, even if he hadn’t done anything wrong (and he hadn’t), even if there was no way Kent or the other Aces could have known which team he was on if they even knew he was on Masterchef (which there wasn’t), the other contestants at least would have been suspicious. 

It took a little bit longer to get everyone set back up again to finish taping. 

“Blue team, you just had too many setbacks early on. While you were able to rally under your new captain, it was, unfortunately, too little too late. Please go clean up your stations. Red team, come meet the people you’ve been cooking for!”

They headed back to the tunnel to start cleaning up, and somehow Mari ended up next to him. She bumped her shoulder into his arm and then started talking in a soft flat voice, clearly intended to avoid notice of the producers. 

“They might give you immunity for taking over.”

“Wouldn’t take it if they did.”

She snorted. “Didn’t think so. But would you save someone else?”

“You want me to save you?”

“Kimora. No one deserves to be treated like that.”

“Ayuh. And if they let me save more than one?”

There was a pause. “I don’t mind cooking for my spot. Save Shayan. They made him cook through Ramadan. Assholes.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure they’re going to look to eliminate me after that thing with Kent, for appearances if nothing else. But I’m not going out without trying, so just, don’t fuck it up and you’ll be fine.”

“Like I fuck up.”

“Ayuh. Exactly.”

* * *

“Will, you stepped up when your team needed to change direction. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to secure the win, but it did turn your team around.”

“You can save yourself and head up to the balcony.”

“Or, you can give that immunity to two of your teammates.”

“What will it be.”

Nursey groaned and fell back against the back of the couch. “Yo. Why’d they give him the option to sacrifice himself? Why?”

“Is this more of the ratings and drama stuff?”

Nonna T sniffed. “It’s a competition. He should just take the immunity.”

“He won’t.” Nursey and Tango managed to say it in near perfect unison. 

“Hmm. Good for a leader. For a person. Bad for competition.”

“I choose Kimora and Shayan.”

“Just like that? No need to think about it?” Gordon was needling Dex about his choices.

“Kimora was doing the work of two people even though it was making her sick, then finished off both sides after we changed things around, and Shayan stepped up immediately to help. Mari also deserves immunity, but if I can only save two, it will be those two.”

Joe frowned at him. “You know we’re sending two people home. If you gave three people immunity, you’d be out.”

“Dex you idiot.” Nursey covered his face with his hand. 

This was his fault. He’d signed Dex up for the competition. Dex was going to get nearly to the end and then just get himself sent home. And all because he kept thinking the things the other people did were more important than what he did. 

“So f-, freaking brainwashed.”

“Hey, Nursey. Aren’t you doing an internship this summer?”

“Ch’yeah. Uh, with a publishing house.” 

“Cool! What’s that like?” Tango’s face might be guileless, but Nursey was pretty sure he knew what was happening. He was being purposely distracted. 

He let it happen. “Pretty chill. I’m filtering the slush pile, so a lot of unedited and not great writing, but I think it will be helpful. You know? Like seeing how different tropes and things work or fall flat. What gets overused. Stuff like that.”

* * *

Dex was washing the dishes. He didn’t have to wash the mixing bowls and utensils that he’d used. It wasn’t expected of him. The fact that he’d had a hard time finding dish soap until finally a production assistant brought him a small bottle pretty clearly indicated that they didn’t intend anyone to actually wash their own dishes during the competition. Honestly, whatever staff they made clean up after the challenges would probably have to rewash everything anyway.

He hoped it helped them a bit. He still wasn’t really keen on the idea of other people cleaning up after him like he was too good to clean up his own mess. But he wasn’t washing dishes for the purpose of getting them clean. He was washing dishes because it gave him something to do while he worried about the souffle he had in the oven. 

There was a lot riding on that souffle.

He didn’t regret giving the immunity to Kimora and Shayan. Shayan had had his back before and they both deserved to move on. He hadn’t been lying about the fact he’d have given Mari immunity, too. If she hadn’t already told him that she was fine with being in the elimination round, he would have taken longer to make his decision. But really, she was the fairest person to be there, in his opinion. She had one of the best shots at not being sent home from it.

But. He could already hear Nursey calling him an idiot for giving up his shot at immunity. They might send him home just because they didn’t do a thorough enough job vetting that he’d never met any of the Aces (though, really, it wasn’t like he was snap friends with the guy like Ransom was). But he was going to do his best to stay in the competition. Nursey and Chowder had put a lot of work and thought into how to completely betray him to get him there because they believed in him. He had to try for them.

So, he was washing dishes so that he wouldn’t give in to his worry about the souffle and open the oven door. That was the souffle killer.

He’d already heard an oven door open and then reclose. One of the other competitors had given in to the urge to check. 

A glance at the clock indicated it was nearly time to start plating, so he dried off the spoon he’d been rinsing and gave his hands a good rinse and dry. 

When he finally opened the oven and pulled out his souffle, it was practically perfect. At least, it was good enough to serve to Nursey and the team. 

All that was left to do was take it up to the judges and await his fate.

Skyla’s souffle had fallen, and he suspected that she was the one who’d opened her oven too soon. 

Mari’s looked perfect.

Christina stepped forward and looked at Skyla’s souffle. “What happened?”

“It fell, chef. But it should still taste good.”

Christina took a bite and chewed slowly. “You opened your oven to check on it and messed with the temperature before it was ready. Bad time for a mistake.”

Christina stepped back and conferred with the other judges. Then Joe stepped forward.

“Will, you could have been on the balcony, watching all this.”

“There are a lot of things I could have done different, Chef. I could have picked a different college. I could have different friends. I could not even be on Masterchef. But no, unless we’d won, I couldn’t have been on the balcony.”

“Well, yes, you could have.”

“Respectfully, Chef. I couldn’t. People have to live with the choices they make. I’ve made this chocolate souffle for you today.”

Joe still didn’t taste the food, continuing to look at Dex instead. “And you washed the dishes.”

At that, Dex shrugged. “I like to clean as I go, and truthfully, I was distracting myself to make sure I didn’t open the oven too early.” 

Joe finally took a bite. “Your souffle looks good. Tastes good. You nailed the texture. But Mari’s looks good too and if her’s looks as good as it tastes, you might be going home today.”

“I know, Chef.”

“Do you want to go home?”

Dex paused and swallowed hard. “I want to win. I’m here because my friends believed in me, believed I could win. I want to do that for them. For my ma. But if I have to be eliminated, losing to Mari isn’t anything to be ashamed of. She’s an excellent chef.”

“Good to know.”

Joe stepped back and conferred with the other chefs.

Dex didn’t listen as Gordon sampled Mari’s souffle. It was just confirming what he already knew. Mari had nailed it. Both their souffles were good. But which was going to be good enough was another question. There’d probably be a commercial break to highlight the drama.

“We need some time to make a decision.”

The three judges moved back behind the doors to the dining room that was rarely used except for the finale to huddle up and talk. It wasn’t really any use trying to read their lips, even if he could see them. 

Dex wasn’t sure they were actually discussing their decision. He was feeling very cynical. Maybe that was just the stress finally catching up to him.

Finally, the judges came back out. 

“Skyla, your souffle fell and it wasn’t properly cooked. I’m sorry, you’re out. Please remove your apron and exit the Masterchef kitchen.”

“Thank you, Chef.” Skyla kept her head high as she untied her apron and walked away.

“Mari, Will. Both of you had nearly flawless souffles. In a competition this fierce, even the smallest of details can be the factor that sends you home. Mari-.”

There was a long pause, which was definitely to allow a cut for commercial break.

“Mari, you are safe. Please head up to the balcony.”

At Gordon’s words, Mari drew in a deep breath and covered her mouth in shock. She turned to Will but all he could do was nod as she wrapped an arm around him in a side hug. 

“You deserve it.” It was true and she should know.

He knew what that meant. He knew what Gordon was going to say next, but he just felt empty. He’d made it to the top ten. He’d proven he knew what he was doing, that he was a good cook. There was no reason to feel like he’d let anyone down.

He still did.

“Will, you-” Gordon paused to take a breath and shake his head. “You’re also safe. Both of you made perfect souffles. It was too close to call. So you will both be continuing in your Masterchef journey.”

* * *

Nursey felt drained, like all of the air and life had been siphoned out of him. Dex was still in. They’d made it look like he was going to be eliminated, but Dex was still in.

“Of course they kept Will. They had to.” Nonna T sniffed at the judges. “Even they aren’t such idiots to not see that he’s the best cook there.”

“Ch’yeah. Obvs. But they really really like drama and ratings.”

“Bah. Drama and ratings. That’s all fine and well, but if they try to kick off their best chef, they’ll be getting me rioting in the streets. How’s that for drama and ratings?”

The mental image of the little Italian grandmother rioting over Masterchef eliminations was too much and Nursey couldn’t stop himself from laughing. “I’ll join you, Nonna T. If they eliminate him, we’ll riot together.”

“Of course you will. At least until you’re needed to comfort him.” She wasn’t looking at Nursey when she said it. She was looking at the television as Skyla gave her confessional goodbye, and she was wearing the same innocent expression Tango always used.

At least now Nursey knew where he got it.


	10. Chapter 10

> Tater: Hey! Chill little D-man! MasterChef watch party my place. You there.

Nursey wasn’t really sure why Tater wanted to host a watch party, or invite him to it, but there was no way he was going to miss the chance. So, he took a train and a lyft and was knocking on Tater’s front door fifteen minutes before the show was scheduled to start. He wasn’t sure who all to expect there, Jack and Bitty maybe or other members of the Falcs. 

He didn’t expect the door to be answered by Lardo. 

He definitely didn’t expect it to just be the three of them watching the show together. He nudged her shoulder as she led him to the den. “Why are you here?”

“I go where I want.” Which wasn’t really an answer, but it was something more than just saying she was there to watch the show, which was definitely supposed to be obvious.

He shrugged it off. “Just didn’t know you and Tater were close.”

She did turn and level a look at him at that. Which, okay, chill. It wasn’t like he and Tater were particularly close, but he’d rated an invite, he just wasn’t sure why it was the two of them.

“He’s respectable at flip cup.”

“Chill. Okay. He is that.” Nursey figured he should let it drop. 

Either she wasn’t going to be forthcoming with more information, or there really was no deeper meaning to why she was invited than there was to his invitation and she was just being vague to mess with him. It really could go either way.

“How’s Shitty?”

She curled into a chair and picked up a drink that was clearly already hers. “You know. Doing the Harvard Law thing. Being ‘The Man’. Summer associate or whatever at his uncle’s big law firm.”

“Chill. That s-”

“How’s your poetry going? Write any new poems about autumn leaves and campfires?”

He held up his hands. “Chill. I’ll shut up.”

“No. I’m-.” She broke off with a sigh. “Been art blocked. I’m actually curious about your poetry. It’s like painting, but with words. You know? It’s close enough. Sometimes talking about what other people are doing helps me.”

“Oh, ch’yeah. Haven’t had as much time this summer because I’ve got an internship reading slush. But, ch’yeah. Uh, most of the stuff I’ve been writing has been about silence. Like, the different volumes of silence, I guess. The silence of companionship versus the silence of loneliness. That kind of thing.”

“Bro, at least you get to see him on tv every week. He’s completely alone. Doesn’t even get to see your smirk on snap.”

He forced a laugh at that. “He’s probably mad relieved for the break, right?”

“Almost time! Do not start without Tater! Bringing drinks and snacks.” Tater’s voice called from the next room, presumably the kitchen, and it was followed only a few seconds later by the man himself trying to balance enough snacks for the entire team along with two large drinks. Somehow, none of it spilled.

* * *

Dex kept his eyes focused on the wall in front of him as he ran on the treadmill. If he just kept his eyes focused on the wall in front of him, it almost wasn’t too bad. He could imagine Nursey’s voice coming from the next treadmill over.

“Run faster, Dexy. You gotta chase the lobster down.”

“How can you still run like that after you spent all night running through my mind?”

“Yo, am I right or am I right? Browning and Adams have a similar feel to their styles, right?”

Dex almost opened his mouth to confirm that Nursey meant Robert Browning and Douglas Adams but caught himself. He slowed the treadmill to a walk so he could cool down. 

This was never a problem when he was home for the summers. He ran on streets and forest paths, not treadmills. He didn’t have the muscle memory of a shared workout when he was at home because he could avoid gyms. 

It was time to head back up to the room anyway.

When he got back to the room, Shayan was up and had finished his dawn prayers. 

“The stamina of youth. Up so early to work out and then film all day.”

Dex took a protein shake from the small room fridge before indicating the prayer mat that Shayan was rolling up. “You aren’t awake much after I am.”

“Ah, yes. But I am not running before prayers.”

“It’s not that bad. Lobstering starts half an hour before dawn, so I’m used to being up early in the summer. I just-.” He broke off and shook his head once before downing his shake. 

“You miss something. Not the work, surely. So, someone?”

He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Ayuh. But that’s true for everyone. Everyone’s missing family or friends. Someone. Most of you are having a harder time, probably. I just, if I had my phone it wouldn’t be so bad?”

“You could call them.” Shayan nodded. “I’d very much like to hear my Scheherazade’s voice.”

“I wouldn’t even have to call. Just, get the messages. The texts. Nursey, my best friend, he sends me stuff all the time. Stupid jokes, and pictures of kittens. Just, stupid stuff. The kind of stuff you don’t realize you’re used to until you don’t get them.” He stopped and gave a short laugh. “I’ll probably get my phone back to hundreds, maybe thousands of messages. He’ll be wicked pissed if my inbox is full and it stops letting him send them.”

“Ah yes. The love language of gift giving, giving small reminders that you are thought of. That you are special.”

“Yeah. I guess so.” It hadn’t really occurred to Dex that there was any intention behind Nursey sending the memes and jokes. They were just chirps. It was just something he did because they were friends. 

“This Nursey, he’s one of the ones who applied for you? He’s the reason you’re here? And you tried to give away that gift last week. Don’t be in such a rush to see him again that you diminish the care he’s shown you.” Shayan pressed his lips together and raised his eyebrows. Then he wrinkled his nose. “And take a shower. Please. I have to cook today.”

“I’m going. I’m going. And, thanks. I stand behind saving you, but yeah, I’ll keep working hard for my friends.”

He had to rush through his shower to be ready in time, but before he knew it, they were standing on the soundstage again, ready to film.

There was a table at the front of the stage with the judges behind it. The only thing on the table was a single potato. Joe stepped forward and picked it up.

“The humble potato. Native to Peru and domesticated over seven thousand years ago, the potato spread throughout the Americas and was only introduced to Europe and the rest of the world less than five hundred years ago. Today, it is a staple crop around the world and the world’s fourth largest food crop. You wouldn’t think that a root vegetable could be raised, lifted up, to the highest tables in the highest courts. But you’d be wrong. Today’s skill test is centered around elevating the humble potato.”

Gordon and Christina stepped forward beside Joe as he set the potato back on the table.

“You will each prepare potatoes three ways. Three of the most difficult potato dishes to master. Pommes Anna, duchess potatoes, and pommes soufflées.”

“You will need to serve all three preparations at the same time, and the homecook who prepares all three the best will earn immunity for the pressure test.”

“Your time starts… now!”

* * *

“It’s my challenge. Dex must win for Tater.” Tater smiled, then put a spoonful of blueberry jam into his mouth. He was eating it directly out of the jar as a snack while they watched the show.

“You know, Duchess potatoes are a fancy kind of mashed potato….”

“Oh! From now on, am Duchess. Yes.” Tater nodded. “Fancy.”

“Well, at least when you’re wearing a suit.” Lardo reached out with a foot and nudged his knee with her toe. “You aren’t very fancy right now.”

“Always fancy. In here.” He tapped his chest and smiled again.

Suddenly his face wrinkled into a frown and he turned toward Nursey. “You think Dex will make fancy potatoes for Tater?”

“Uh, ch’yeah? Probably. If you ask. He makes fancy stuff for me all the time when I ask.”

Lardo snorted at that, but Nursey ignored her.

A thought did occur though. “Yo, chill. Just, if someone offers you Needhams? Don’t get them.” He shook his head and made a face at the memory. “Not worth it.”

“Guys, are you even watching the show?” 

Nursey looked back to see the camera with a close up of Dex’s hands. He’d know those hands anywhere, even while peeling potatoes at ninety miles an hour. “Well, he is very a-peel-ing.”

A slow glance from the corner of his eye showed Lardo’s returning smirk. “Always was quite the spudmuffin.”

Tater flopped back against the couch with a ‘harrumpf.’ “He small potatoes.” 

He was clearly trying to look tough, but he couldn’t hold it very long before grinning at them. 

“I just hope he wins this challenge so he can be a spec-tater for the elimination part. I don’t know if I can deal with another week like last week.”

“The spudden save was a relief. I thought for sure he would be texting us an update to let us know he was back in Maine safe.”

Nursey let the rest of the words wash over him. If Dex was eliminated, did that mean he could see him again? He hadn’t gotten to talk to him in months. Not even so much as an emoji reply to one of his jokes.

He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t _hope_ for Dex to lose. He didn’t. He wanted Dex to win. He wanted him to win and believed he could or he never would have sent in the application with Chowder. 

But, maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be the end of the world if Dex didn’t win.

* * *

Dex looked at his plate with the three kinds of potatoes. He’d placed it on the judging table next to the plates of the other 8 contestants and he couldn’t help but compare a little bit. His Pommes Anna were good. He was sure of it. They were spot on. His Duchess potatoes, he was pretty sure would taste good, but he hadn’t been as consistent as he’d have liked on the piping.

The pommes soufflées, on the other hand, hadn’t all puffed like they were supposed to. His temperatures must have been off. Or maybe they didn’t cool enough between frying. Something. He’d messed something up. They were probably fine to eat. Probably. He’d eat them. But they weren’t good enough to serve to Nursey and the rest. They weren’t good enough for Masterchef.

Sure enough, Joe shook his head after judging them, then moved on. 

“The winner of this skills test, gaining immunity in the elimination challenge, is…. Brad. Please, head up to the balcony.”

Dex nodded. It’s what he’d expected. He’d failed to deliver. The judges were probably reconsidering saving him in the last elimination challenge.

He had to do better.

_He could get messages from Nursey again._

How could he face Nursey after squandering the chance that Nursey’d given him to make something of himself?

“We’ve explored three ways that potatoes have been elevated to fine cuisine. Now, we look at one of the most mundane uses of the potato. Of course, this is Masterchef, so while the preparation may be pedestrian, we expect you to present us with a restaurant quality dish. For today’s elimination challenge you will be making…” Gordon lifted the cover from the table in front of him to reveal the food beneath. “French fries. Your time starts now.”

The pantry had a big display with mounds and mounds of different types of potatoes, but Dex knew exactly which type he was going to use for this challenge. If he was going to make fries, he was making them with Kennebec potatoes. He needed to recenter and get back to his roots. 

A couple of his competitors just dumped russet potatoes into their basket, a few others put a variety, and some picked new potatoes and various fancy potatoes that he wasn’t sure would actually hold up well as a fry. That was on them though. Right now, he just needed to make some really good fries.

Back at his station, he focused on making nice cuts and producing consistent sizes for his fries. That was the first step because if they weren’t consistent, they’d cook at different speeds and some would be overcooked while some were under. He wasn’t going to make a rookie mistake at this stage of the competition.

No room for mistakes. Cook like it’s for Nursey. That’s all there was to it, really. He _was_ cooking for Nursey. And for Chowder. Because they’d applied for him. They believed in him, that he could do this. That he could be somebody. 

Besides, it’s not like he would have gotten to see Nursey even if he wasn’t in a contact and social media lockdown. He never saw Nursey over the summer. He could survive another summer, their last summer, without seeing him.

* * *

Three of the contestants had been told they were safe. Micah had been eliminated and left the kitchen.

Nursey didn’t feel very sorry for him. He’d had first pick on teams the last round and hadn’t picked Dex. Some things were just unforgivable. 

Dex was still standing with the other three contestants waiting to hear if they were safe or eliminated. He looked calm, stoic, ready. At least to people who didn’t know him. The cameras barely picked up the tightness around his eyes. The slight difference in the set of his jaw. 

Then Sam, with his arrogant, smirking face was deemed safe, followed by Mari and it was just Dex and Kimora.

“Kimora, last week, Will gave you immunity from elimination.”

“Yes, Chef.”

“Do you think he was right to do that?”

Kimora frowned slightly. “I am glad that he did because I think I have a lot to show you, Chef. I think I’m a good enough cook to win this.” She paused then. “So, if he was playing strategically, that would have been a bad move on his part. He probably should have saved himself. It’s a competition.”

“Interesting. The fries that you served us today were mushy and bland. How are you showing your skill with that?”

“I’m showing that I’m willing to take risks. I used potatoes that aren’t typically used for fries, and while they weren’t a total success, I think that I did try something interesting with them that indicates my creativity in the kitchen.”

“You know, sometimes there’s a reason that certain varieties are used for different preparations.”

Gordon stepped forward then. “Will, last week you gave Kimora your immunity. Today, you are standing beside her waiting to hear who will be safe and who will be going home. How do you feel about that?”

“I feel fine, Chef. It’s a competition. Last week, I felt like Kimora deserved to stay in the competition. She deserved a fair shot at cooking her best for you this week. If I go home today and she stays, then she was the better cook. If she goes home today,” he paused with a shrug, “then she had the chance to cook her best and show you what she could do first.”

Nursey rolled his eyes. “Yo, this is bullshit, right? Her fries were a soggy mess and his were absolute perfection. Why are they even trying to claim it’s down to the wire?”

“They didn’t actually show the judges tasting his fries. They probably think people are too stupid to have noticed him in the background with them.”

“Will.” Gordon stared at Dex while dramatic music played. “You are safe from elimination. Kimora, I’m sorry, but your time in the Masterchef Kitchen is at an end. Please remove your apron.”

Nursey leaned back and let out a slow breath. It was fine. “Chill, I knew Dex would still be in the competition. He’ll be in it to the end. All summer.”

“Tater.” Lardo’s voice was quiet, but sharp. “Sit on Nursey.”

“Ok.” Tater immediately, without even pausing to set down the jam he was eating out of the jar again, moved over to land his entire and considerable NHL muscle weight in Nursey’s lap.

“Why?”

“You forget I know you, Nurse? I was your manager. I know what you were thinking.”

“Chill. Do not.”

“You were thinking that you want him to lose so you can talk to him again.”

Nursey looked away and focused on trying to displace the larger man who was, well, okay, technically not hurting him in any way and would probably move if he asked. But at this point it was a matter of principle. 

“You can’t keep doing this to him, Nursey.”

Which was rude. Why prioritize the white guy? “Not doing anything to him.”

“We both know he wouldn’t have picked this for himself. He’s on national television, kicking ass by the way, because you asked him to go on this show.”

“And Chowder.”

She snorted. “You asked him. He’s doing this. For you. Don’t start wishing he’d _lose_ because you miss him. You did your gift giving, he’s doing his acts of service. Just. Fuck, Nursey. He’s legitimately trying to give you what he thinks you want. Don’t change your mind when he’s not here to know.”

“Tater, can you move?”

Tater stood up at Nursey’s request. “Out of jam. Be back.”

Apparently, he wasn’t concerned with the conversation. Maybe it was just typical hockey drama.

“I’m not.” He stopped and sighed. “It’s chill, ok? I’m not changing my mind. I do miss him. It would be nice to see him again. I thought, you know, we don’t visit over the summers because he’s always working, so it would be the same. But apparently, emojis and short responses to texts do actually make a difference. So, ch’yeah. I _briefly_ considered that it wouldn’t be the worst if he was eliminated and I could talk to him again. But it’s chill. There’s only a few more episodes and best believe I’m going to be in that kitchen cheering during the finale when he wins that trophy.”

She nodded. “We all will. And one more thing, if you aren’t going to actually go for it? Maybe you should consider moving on. You deserve better than pining.”

He managed a chill smile. “It’s all good. We graduate next year anyway.”


	11. Chapter 11

Nursey liked staying in hotels. He knew most people found the impersonal nature of the rooms and the hallways full of doors to be slightly unnerving, a liminal space. Still, he liked them. He’d found that the key was to spread out his stuff as soon as he got there, then it was almost just like being at home. Except he could order room service delivered to his room instead of needing to go downstairs to get food. The walls were generally thicker than at the Haus. And sometimes, they reminded him of sharing a room on roadies with Dex.

So, Nursey was feeling pretty comfortable as he lay in the hotel bed, eating fried shrimp, and waiting for Masterchef to start.

Or he would have been, if not for the fact that Lardo’s comments the week before kept running through his mind. He’d been flirting with Dex since they met, so it wasn’t really surprising that someone had picked up on that. Especially considering it was Lardo. Some of the team were pretty oblivious, or wrapped up in their own drama, but Lardo paid attention to things.

No, the fact that Lardo had noticed that he was flirting with Dex wasn’t an issue. The fact that she realized gift giving was one of his big love languages wasn’t really surprising.

The fact that she’s indicated that Dex was reciprocating? That him going on the show was an _act of service_? Just the idea that Dex’s love language was acts of service at all?

That was dangerous. It was dangerous because he wanted to believe it. He wanted to believe it more than anything. Even though Dex had spent the entire time that he’d been flirting ignoring his flirtations. He wanted to believe it, so he was in a hotel room, watching Dex and the other six remaining contestants walk into the Masterchef Kitchen to stand next to the boxes on their cooking stations.

> Nursey: Time 4 Dexy to [punch emoji] the competition. Let’s see top 5!

* * *

Dex was not thinking about winning. Dex was not thinking about being in the finale. Not because he thought that thinking about it would jinx him somehow and prevent him from making it that far, but because they were still at the top seven and there were two episodes worth of filming left to get through before the finale. 

You can’t win the championship if you lose in the first round. He couldn’t win Masterchef until he got through today’s challenges.

So, he was thinking about what might be under the mystery box on his cooking station. He was listening to Gordon, Joe, and Christina introduce the episode. And only the smallest fragment of his brain was thinking about the fact that he’d get to see what Nursey had texted him in no more than two weeks. 

Well, fifteen days maybe, to be sure. Well-. No. He’d worry about if they’d continue to be sequestered from contact or if the finale would air live later. The point was, it wouldn’t be long, no matter what. 

So, he focused on the current challenge. He listened to the judges.

“We are down to the final seven contestants. Congratulations to you all. This would be an amazing accomplishment on any season, but this season, it is doubly so.” 

“That’s right. With the double eliminations this season, you are only two elimination challenges away from cooking in the Masterchef Finale!”

“But first, you have to get through today’s pressure test. The winner of the mystery box challenge will gain an advantage in the elimination challenge.”

“Note that we said an advantage. There is no more immunity. You’ll have to cook your way to the finale.”

It took a lot of effort to resist rolling his eyes at that comment. As though they hadn’t been cooking their asses off to make it this far. As if they hadn’t earned immunity by cooking in the first place. Regardless, it didn’t matter. There was no immunity this time. Which kind of meant it felt a bit less imperative to win. The winner got an advantage, but it wasn’t like anyone was going to be eliminated in this round and winning wouldn’t save him. 

The advantage would be nice, though.

“Lift your mystery box!”

Dex lifted his box to reveal a pot. Looking around, everyone had the same pot under their box.

“That’s right. Today’s mystery box challenge is a pot. One pot. Specifically, you will be making your dish with just this one pot.”

“One pot dishes may be a staple in many households, but remember, we expect restaurant quality dishes.”

“Your time starts now!”

Dex ran through different things he’d made the team using just one pot or pan before. There were a few because his pans had a weird habit of disappearing and he would have to chase them down and rescue them from being included in a jam binge. But he figured the chicken and orzo was probably the one that he could plate the best to make it look fancy and like what they were expecting. 

Luckily, they weren’t going to stop and card him when he grabbed the white wine to use in the sauce.

* * *

“The best one pot dish tonight belongs to….Mari. Come on down, my darling, and receive your advantage.”

Nursey rolled his eyes and shoved another shrimp into his mouth. He happened to know for a fact that Dex’s chicken and orzo was fucking superb. There was no way someone had a better dish. 

“Your advantage in the upcoming elimination challenge is to pick which of these ingredients you will be working with, and which your competitors will be working with.”

The camera panned over the judges, then the row of trays displaying different options, then finally back to Mari’s face. 

“I’m going to take-.”

And then it cut to commercial. Because, why not, right?

Nursey sighed and rolled out of bed. He should probably stretch and a bathroom break might be in order. Two out of seven contestants were going to be eliminated after the next challenge. The odds were getting stiffer and stiffer. And he was kind of worried that he’d put a lot of undue stress on Dex by signing him up for this. 

If Lardo was right and Dex was competing as some kind of _act of service_ , if Dex thought he needed to win to make Nursey happy….

Well, it was wrong, first of all. Nursey would have just been happy with like, a response to his flirts. That would have been chill. For starters. Would have been mad chill. 

He managed to get back just in time for the show to resume, but he still took a moment to tap out another message to the SMH.

> Nursey: Bull [poop emoji]. Dex’s [chicken emoji] & orzo [trophy emoji]

The judges were standing across the front stage of the kitchen area again when the camera finished it’s pan over. 

“Mari’s advantage in today’s elimination round was that she got to pick which ingredient she would feature, and which ingredient the rest of you would feature in your dishes. Mari?”

Mari walked out holding a tray with a giant, just mad huge, lobster on it, and smiled as she returned to her station. 

“As you can see, Mari has chosen to work with lobster.”

Dex appeared in the confessional cut away. “That thing is way over limit. I mean.” He stopped and shook his head. “It’s not a Maine lobster, which is already a questionable choice. But if someone I knew caught that and didn’t throw it back? I’d report them to the-” Dex’s mouth was blurred out and a beep covered what he said, “game warden.” 

Dex was shaking his head again, his face stony and tight in a way Nursey’d rarely seen it, well, anywhere. “If you want to keep having lobster to eat, you have to leave the big ones. Every” another beep, “-ing school kid knows that.”

* * *

“The ingredient that Mari has selected for the rest of you to work with is,” Gordon paused to lift the cover over the tray in front of him, “figs.”

“You will have access to the pantry for this challenge, though it is more limited. We expect you to highlight figs and make them the star of your restaurant quality dish.”

Dex had a few ideas of things he could make with figs, but mostly it went well with goat dairy, so he figured what he ended up making would depend on what was available in the limited pantry. 

The chirping (trash talk, really) didn’t start until after they were finished in the pantry and everyone was working on their dishes. Dex had been ignoring it the past few weeks. At first no one had really trash talked much, at least not while cooking, because everyone was still on edge and there were so many people with few interactions between them. But since the first team challenge, things had been slowly shifting. The producers seemed to be encouraging it, but Dex wasn’t going to rise to their bait. Drama could only get you so far in a competition like this. They were on the last few episodes, it was going to take skill to get the rest of the way.

“Hey, Will. I think Mari’s lobster’s bigger than yours.” Sam’s comment was obviously meant to be crude, but veiled enough to make it on air. 

Dex ignored it.

“Yeah, you never see a lobster from Maine that big.” Sam was barely containing his laughter as he made the comment.

He didn’t stop cutting his figs to reply, didn’t even take his eyes off his work. And he very certainly ignored the implications to only address the actual issue of lobsters. “Ayuh, that’s because Maine actually cares about conservation and sustainable lobstering practices.”

He didn’t have time for a biology lesson, or a discussion on ecological conservation. He didn’t have time to explain that the best tasting lobster had nothing to do with size, it had to do with how freshly molted the lobster was. Or even that freshly molted lobster was too fragile for shipping so the best lobster was available right on the docks and cheap as hell. There was a reason his family ate lobster even though it didn’t have scales, and it had everything to do with availability and low cost. 

He nearly cut the fig too deep and shook his head to try to refocus.

Dex wasn’t upset with Mari. She’d had no control over what lobster was provided. He was pissed at the producers. At the improper management of wildlife and fisheries. At the exploitation of natural resources without regard to the ecological balance and future survival of species. At the fact that people didn’t seem to care that Maine had specific laws preventing the harvest of larger lobsters because they were more fertile and ensured the continuing availability of Maine lobsters and instead made comments just loud enough for him to hear about how other lobsters were bigger.

And always with the vaguely crude subtext. Everything was a dick measuring contest for some guys. Even in the middle of a cooking contest.

It didn’t matter. He was used to worse on the ice, and worse still from homophobic, classist, antisemitic assholes in general. All these sorts of measuring contests did was indicate what the other person seemed to value most.

He didn’t have time to worry about Sam’s petty pot shots. He needed to fold the stuffed figs into the filo sheets and get them in the oven. He knew this recipe was going to be cutting it close on the 45 minute time limit, and it wasn’t one he’d made for the team before, so he wasn’t as familiar with it. He’d thought about making it, but hadn’t had a chance to make it since figs don’t last long. 

It was a lot of hope to hang on a recipe he’d only memorized in case Nursey decided to visit him when figs were available.

* * *

> Nursey: Sam. [eye roll emoji]

> Chowder: Is he really trying to say what it sounds like?

> Farms: Seems like

> Chowder: But he knows Dex plays hockey, right?

> Nursey: ?

> Nursey: Not all hockeys r packin

> Chowder: We shower together.

> Farms: Before either of you suggest it, do NOT defend his honor on twitter.

> Farms: He won’t appreciate it

> Nursey: Not where his honor is

> Chowder: Twitter?

> Nursey: [pants emoji]

> Nursey: move on, y Dex no make this for us b4?

> Chowder: figs are $$

> Nursey: If I buy?

> Chowder: [unimpressed emoji] not helping.

Nursey frowned at his phone. He definitely for surely was helping. He didn’t have to make a big deal of it. He could just _happen_ to buy some figs, which happen to notoriously go bad in a very short time, and then Dex could make the lil stuffed fig packet things for them. 

It’s just they looked mad delicious when Dex took his plate up for the judges to taste. He considered checking if room service had any fig items he could order, but it wouldn’t be the same. They wouldn’t be as good. 

“You used premade filo dough for your goat cheese stuffed figs. In a cooking competition.”

“Yes, Chef. Unfortunately the dough takes longer to make than I had time, but I felt that the flavors of the fig and goat cheese would make up for it.”

“I hope you’re right, for your sake.” Joe raised his eyebrows and stepped back.

Nursey threw a cold fried shrimp at the television. Joe could take his smug face somewhere else and stop pretending; he knew that Dex’s food was top notch.

Finally, all the dishes were tasted and it was time to find out who was eliminated. It wouldn’t be Dex. It couldn’t be Dex. But still, it was a big relief when the first person eliminated was Jerry. 

“The second contestant who will be leaving the Masterchef Kitchen for the final time tonight is-.” Gordon paused dramatically and the camera panned over the waiting faces of the remaining contestants. “Sam.”

“That’s right! That’s right, Sam. Talk shit, serve shit, apparently.”

> Chowder: Don’t talk the talk if can’t cook the fig.

> Nursey: can’t [walking emoji] the walk, time to [walking emoji] home.

> Farms: Bye Sam. Don’t miss you.


	12. Chapter 12

They were so close to the end. So close. Dex looked at the flannels hanging in the closet of the hotel room that had been his home the entire summer. He hadn’t worn the blue one yet. The one that Nursey always complimented him on. He had thought to save it for the finale. He should look his best for the last episode, surely. 

Chowder would accuse him of jinxing it, to even think about saving a shirt for the finale episode. To Chowder, planning for it would mean that it wouldn’t happen. 

As far as Dex was concerned, planning what to wear for a contingency just made him prepared, but didn’t actually affect the outcome of present situations. 

He put on his green flannel.

Two of the last five would go home at the end of the day. Three would move on to the finale. The odds were still technically in his favor. 

He was very close to making it. To proving to everyone that he was good enough. That Nursey’s belief in him wasn’t misplaced. 

He could do this. He would do this.

* * *

There weren’t any boxes on their cook stations. There wasn’t a table with a covered tray at the front of the sound stage. There was nothing to indicate what they would be cooking for the penultimate episode of their season. There was nothing to indicate that they’d be cooking _at all_ , which was an absurd thing to think. It was Masterchef. Of course they’d be cooking.

Maybe they’d be taken to another location. They’d only had two destination challenges and those were both team challenges. Maybe it was time for another. 

The judges walked out from the dining room at the back of the soundstage and lined up in front of the contestants, driving thoughts of a destination challenge from Dex’s head.

“It has been twelve grueling weeks since you first entered the Masterchef Kitchen to earn your aprons. You had family and friends waiting for you outside the doors, cheering you on and supporting the launch of your Masterchef dreams.”

“Next week, three of you will enter the Masterchef Kitchen for the final time, again surrounded by your family and friends. But this time, they’ll be watching you cook from the balcony.” Christina pointed to the balcony.

“For two of you, your Masterchef journey will end tonight. But first, I think, a little taste of home.” Joe smiled and then turned toward the pantry doors which opened to reveal a petite black woman.

Based on Mari’s gasp, Dex was pretty sure she knew her. Based on their embrace, the woman was probably Mari’s wife. Then another woman who Shayan’s expression clearly indicated was Scheherazade, his wife. 

Dex’s smile was barely bitter at all as he watched Raheem’s husband wrap him in a hug, and Brad’s datemate follow suit. It was honestly great that they all got to see their significant others for the challenge. Shayan, in particular, he knew, had been missing Scheherazade for a while.

It wasn’t the producers’ fault that he didn’t have a boyfriend to visit him.

“What, no hug, Poindexter?”

Dex squeezed his eyes shut. He really couldn’t afford to imagine hearing Nursey’s voice during taping and competition.

The warmth and weight of an arm wrapping around his shoulders made him open his eyes again. Wrapping an arm around Nursey’s back to return the bro hug was nice. He wouldn’t ask for more than Nursey was willing to give, but if Nursey was willing to offer a hug, he stepped into it without a second thought.

“What are you doing here?”

Nursey grinned at him. “Guess your mom told them that I was your partner.”

Dex shook his head with a soft smile. “And you didn’t feel the need to correct them on the fact that was line partner?”

“Nah. It didn’t seem important. Besides, it’s more fun this way. Do you know how long I’ve been watching you cook delicious food and not been able to eat any of it? Mad unchill, Dexily.”

“Okay, but you know that now everyone in the country thinks we’re dating.”

“Chill, Poindexter. There’s a lot worse things for people to think. But we better really sell it if you want people to believe that.” 

Nursey’s lips were soft and warm against his cheek. The kiss wasn’t overly wet or dramatic for effect, just a simple press of lips, and if Nursey’d used balm or other lip product it had been absorbed so there was no film or residue left on Dex’s cheek. 

The only thing the soft press of lips left was a blush as Dex felt his cheeks heating. His arm was still wrapped around Nursey, holding him close, even as he pushed him away. 

“Partners, I’m sorry, but I have to ask you to head up to the balcony so that your amazing homecooks can continue the competition.” Gordon’s words cut through the space, pulling Dex fully back to the moment.

“Go on, then.”

“Make something great for me, Dexy.”

“Always do.”

Then Nursey pulled away and Dex was left watching him ascend the stairs with the significant others of the other contestants. It was a pleasant fiction to pretend that he was Dex’s boyfriend, just for this one day.

* * *

“Contestants, in honor of your loved ones up on the balcony, today you will be cooking a dish inspired by your partners.” 

“Not only do we expect to see dishes worthy of your love for your partner, both in flavor and appearance, but the dish should also relate specifically to your partner or your relationship.”

“We’ve stocked the pantry with a wider variety of specialty items, including some based on suggestions from your partners about what they believe you’d make for this challenge.”

“Your time starts now.”

The people around him were shouting encouragement to their partners, so Nursey joined in.

“You got this, Dexy! Woo!”

He really hoped he hadn’t made this harder on Dex. Everyone else seemed to be in actual long term relationships. They all probably had anniversary dinners and special occasions to reference. Years of intimacy to know beyond a doubt that their partner knew all their favorite foods and flavors.

When the producers had asked him what ingredients Dex was likely to pick related to him, all he’d managed to think of were his favorite foods that Dex had made (which, admittedly, wasn’t a short list), and some of the more pretentious things that Nursey’d suggested over the years to try to get a rise out of him.

He really hoped Dex didn’t end up making uni, but it was probably back there in case he decided to go that route.

Watching the filming in person was a lot different from watching on television. There were multiple takes of nearly everything. The contestants did seem to actually have the limited time to cook, but everything else was mad different. He couldn’t text Frog Chat about what was going on because no one else would be watching at the same time as him. Except the other partners, and they were all cheering for different people. 

Most of the contestants looked up every once in a while, smiling or calling out to their partner. Dex was focused. It was fine. He was like that on the ice, too. Just because he didn’t look at Nursey didn’t mean he wasn’t aware. 

It was great getting to focus only on Dex as he moved between tasks: chopping rhubarb and shallots and ginger, juicing a lemon and an orange, separating eggs. He wasn’t beholden to watching what the camera angles and editors chose. 

“Get it, Dexy. Yes, whisk those yolks. Beautiful.”

“What is he making?”

Nursey looked up, surprised to see Cleo, Mari’s wife, beside him and watching Dex as well.

“I don’t know.”

She frowned. “Not one of your favorites, then?”

“Chill. Everything he makes is my favorite. But I haven’t seen him make this before.” He paused and considered. “Usually I’m not standing on a balcony though.”

“Usually don’t watch him cook?”

“Usually I’m getting in the way of the drawers he needs.”

“Oh yeah, that’s always fun.” 

“What’s Mari making?”

Looking over at her station, she seemed to have a pot of rice boiling and had another pot with onions, peppers, and carrots that she was actively working on.

“I think she’s recreating the Thai curry she made for our first date.” Cleo laughed softly. “Of course, I didn’t actually realize it was our first date at the time.”

“How’d that happen?”

“We worked together back then. Different departments, but we’d see each other in the break room, you know? She’d bring in food to share around and one day I walked in, she was packing up an empty container of Thai red curry. I told her I was really sorry to have missed it because her food was always a treat. She said that she could make some just for me if I wanted to come over.”

Nursey was only nominally watching Dex at this point, his attention split between the action below and watching Cleo’s face as she talked. 

“I was into her, but I thought she was just trying to be friends. It took another four times of hanging out and her cooking for me before she asked if she could kiss me and I realized she’d been trying to date me the whole time. Even the food she’d been taking to work. Can’t believe I fell into the oblivious lesbian stereotype.”

“Nah, it’s chill. I get it. You spend so long being told not to read into things, don’t be predatory, don’t push yourself on people who aren’t interested. People just assume you’re going to be aggressive about getting what you want, or hypersexual or whatever nonsense.” He lifted a shoulder in a shrug.

“How’d you and Will get together, then?”

“Hockey put us together, and we had the same best friend. Then, I guess kinda similar to you and Mari. He’s been cooking for me for over two years. I spent most of that flirting at him and thinking he was ignoring me.”

Technically, that was all true. Dex had been cooking for him, and other members of the team, for nearly three years actually. Since he’d started with helping Bitty with Hausgiving their freshman year. And Nursey’d been flirting at him for about that long as well. Still was. And Dex was still ignoring him. He just left off that last part.

What would life be like if Dex liked him back? If Dex had been making all those meals just as an excuse to cook for Nursey?

* * *

“What have you made for this challenge?”

“I have prepared seared orange-ginger scallops with a flower garnish, an arugula and goat cheese salad with strawberries and flowers, and a lilac scone with rhubarb curd.”

“These garnishes, are they edible?”

“Yes, Chef. All of the flowers that I’ve used are edible flowers. Inedible garnishes are a choking hazard, which I try to avoid.” He closed his mouth before he could continue the thought about it being something he particularly wanted to avoid around Nursey.

“So, tell me about why you picked this dish for your partner.”

“The first thing you need to know about Derek is that he was born on Valentine’s Day and he’s determined to live up to it. He’s-.” Dex trailed off for a moment. “He’s complicated. Pretentious in an understated way. More layers than a wedding cake and frosted in Chill so you don’t know if it’s chocolate or vanilla or spice or red velvet or carrot cake underneath.”

“But you didn’t make a cake.”

At that Dex nearly laughed, but managed, barely, to keep it to a wry smile. “No, he’s still a D1 athlete and is supposed to be sticking to a diet plan.”

Joe nodded. “But here’s the thing, I’m not.” 

It didn’t seem worth responding to. The judges weren’t on a diet plan, but the instructions had been to cook based on Nursey. Frankly, Dex was used to accounting for an excess of pie and other baked goods being if not forced on them at least readily available at all times. So he had a tendency to take that into consideration when making things for Nursey. 

“It certainly looks attractive.”

Dex remained impassive and waited while Joe loaded his fork to try a bite. 

“There’s a lot going on here. A lot of strong, over the top flavors and components. It really _shouldn’t_ work, but it does.”

“Ayuh. That’s Derek.”

“Thank you, Will. You can step back.”

Dex returned to his station and watched while the judges tasted the dishes of the remaining contestants. He resisted the urge to look up at Nursey, just like he’d been resisting it since Nursey climbed the stairs. 

“You have all done an amazing job of preparing dishes based on your partners. However, the homecook with the best dish who will be receiving an amazing advantage going into the final elimination round is-” Gordon paused. Technically he stopped so that the cameras could reset and they could get another angle on the announcement.

Then, just in case they decided not to cut to commercial, probably, Gordon started again from the top.

“You have all done an amazing job of preparing dishes based on your partners. However, the homecook with the best dish who will be receiving an amazing advantage going into the final elimination round is Will!”

Dex dropped his chin to his chest with a smile and when he looked back up, he finally couldn’t resist a quick glance at Nursey in the balcony. 

Nursey, for his part, was grinning back at him. “Knew you would do it, Dexily!”

He just shook his head and pointed up at Nursey as he started following the judges into the pantry to find out what his advantage was supposed to be.

“Congratulations again, Will. But there’s still one more step before you get to the finale. For tonight’s elimination challenge, you will be cooking with ingredients that are known for having-” Joe paused and rocked his head back and forth, “aphrodisiac properties.”

“As your first advantage for winning the first challenge tonight, you will get to select which of these ingredients everyone will be working with.”

Dex nodded and looked at the foods arrayed in front of him. There were the usual suspects: oysters, chocolate, peppers. There were also quite a few that he hadn’t heard were supposed to be aphrodisiacs: avocados, celery, watermelon. 

“Which would you like to cook with, Will?”

“If I pick one, am I not allowed to use any of the others at all? Or is it just a matter of I _have_ to use that one and make sure it’s a feature in my dish?”

Joe and Christina both raised their eyebrows and looked at Gordon to make the pronouncement. This couldn’t actually be something they hadn’t considered and made a rule for, or they would have cut taping to decide with the other producers and come back to the question.

“You can use any of the ingredients in the pantry, but the one you specifically choose must be a major component and feature of your dish.”

He nodded. “I would like to work with the vanilla bean, please.”  
“Very good. The second part of your amazing advantage is that you can get the rest of your ingredients now, before the rest of the contestants.”

“Chill.” He nodded and turned to pick up the pantry basket so that he could start loading it with egg whites, sugar, almonds, butter, vanilla beans, and violet sugar.

* * *

“He’s complicated.”

“Pretentious.”

Nursey swallowed hard and straightened his shoulders. He was chill. It was fine. He’d been called those things before. He _knew_ that Dex thought he was pretentious. Hell, he’d banked on it more than a few times.

“More layers than a wedding cake and frosted in chill so you don’t know what’s underneath.”

He blinked as Dex listed a variety of unique and interesting flavors. Interesting, but not pretentious. Not “over the top”.

When Joe said “It looks attractive” Dex didn’t link that to Nursey. He didn’t say “That’s Derek” until Joe said that there was a lot going on, but it worked together. 

He swallowed again and tightened his grip on the railing.

“You ok?” 

Cleo’s words nearly made him drag his eyes off of Dex, but he couldn’t quite manage it.

“Ch’yeah. It’s just mad weird. Being seen like that, you know? Known.”

That wasn’t really what he meant. There wasn’t anything particularly baring about what Dex had made. He hadn’t revealed Nursey’s deepest secrets.

It was far worse than that. Dex had seen how _much_ Nursey was, Dex saw Nursey as being _a lot_. He wasn’t the first person to see that, but he was one of a very small few to say “and it works.” He had looked at how _much_ Nursey was, translated it into food, taken several strong flavors that should have been overpowering on their own, and made them work as a cohesive dish because that’s how he saw Nursey. A cohesive dish. Where nothing was overpowering. Nothing was too much. 

Well, Nursey wasn’t going to cry on national television, that was for certain. He was _far_ too chill for that.

“That’s what happens when someone loves you. Really loves you. They make sure to know you. And then they love you for who you are.”

Then Dex won. Dex won and finally looked up at him with a smile. 

He grinned back, knowing his heart eyes had to be massive and obvious. “Knew you would do it, Dexily!”

While Dex was in the pantry, production assistants led Nursey and the rest of them to a green room or something. There were some chairs and couches, a spread of snacks from craft services, and no way to see what was happening. 

“Wait, don’t we at least get to see the rest?”

“I’m afraid not, Mr. Nurse. We can’t allow anyone to know the outcome of this elimination before the episode airs.”

“We all signed NDAs. Surely the people whose partners are eliminated should at least be allowed to comfort them? To know?”

“A shuttle will take you back to the hotel shortly.”

The door clicked shut behind the assistant. 

It wouldn’t do any good to get upset at them. They probably didn’t have any actual control over the situation. But it was still a bullshit situation.

* * *

The balcony was empty when he exited the pantry and Dex had to take a deep breath to keep from showing how much that hurt. If he’d realized how little time he’d have to see Nursey, he’d have spent more of the first challenge giving in to the temptation of glancing.

It did, at least, seem to indicate that no matter if he was eliminated or not, they weren’t going to let him see Nursey, or anyone else, until after the finale. Which meant he definitely needed to make it to the finale. At least then Nursey would be on the balcony again. Maybe some other people too. 

“Food has been associated with love for a long time. In many ways, it’s the language of love.”

“The way to a person’s heart is through their stomach after all.”

“But people have also used food to increase passion, not just affection.”

“There are a number of foods that have gained a reputation of being aphrodisiacs. Foods that increase libido, or otherwise improve the passion of romance. For today’s elimination challenge, you will be cooking with one such ingredient, which Will has chosen.”

“The vanilla bean. Rumored to increase muscular energy and circulation, some people believe that these benefits help when love moves from the kitchen to the bedroom.”

“As you can see, the second part of Will’s advantage is that he has already made his selections from the pantry. You all have one hour for this challenge and your time starts now.”

The other four contestants dashed off to the pantry and Dex started setting up a stand mixer so that he could get started on making a meringue then adding in a crushed almond and sugar mixture before folding it over and over. He didn’t want to overwork it, so after about fifty strokes, he dropped some on a plate. When a small peak formed, he folded it a few more times before transferring the mixture to a pastry bag to pipe rounds onto a paper lined tray. 

While the macaron shells were setting, he started whisking egg whites and sugar in a bowl over simmering water to create a cream like meringue. He had to time things right to make sure and get the shells in the oven with enough time for them to bake and still be filled and plated, while not allowing his buttercream to fall apart. The vanilla beans were the last thing that he added to the buttercream, folding them in before transferring it to a new pastry bag to pipe between the shells when they were finished.

Several of the shells stuck and cracked when he pulled them out. He couldn’t let that happen. He had to have at least a few perfect shells so that he could plate perfect macarons. Luckily, he ended up with just enough, and was able to lift his hands when time was called, happy with his plate.

“So, tell me about your dish and how you used the vanilla bean.”

“I’ve prepared violet macarons with vanilla bean buttercream. I wanted to continue the theme of the edible flowers from the first challenge in a way that both showcased my skills and complemented the vanilla bean.”

“Haven’t you made something similar to this before? The last time we had a guest for you here, you made macarons, didn’t you?”

“No, Chef. I made miniature whoopie pies. Which are, um, quite different in texture, flavor, and technique.”

“I see.” Joe looked at him and slowly took a bite from one of the macarons without breaking eye contact. “Thank you, Will. You can step back.”

Dex stepped back beside Brad and Shayan and watched Raheem and Mari present their dishes. He didn’t have to be the best. Not really. He just needed to be good enough. Just better than two of the others. 

He just needed to prove one more time that Nursey was right to believe in him.

“The first contestant to move on to the Masterchef Finale is-”


	13. Chapter 13

Nursey was extremely irritated about not being allowed to know how the episode had gone. He’d barely gotten to see or talk to Dex, and now he wasn’t allowed to know if Dex was in another room beating himself up over being eliminated. 

Because he knew Dex. He knew without a doubt that if Dex had been eliminated, he’d blame himself and think that it was because of a failing on his part. Even if it was just rigged from the start against him. 

And if Dex hadn’t been eliminated, then Nursey wanted to make sure that absolutely everyone who wanted to be there to support him was able to be there to support him. As far as Nursey was concerned, Dex deserved the biggest cheering section in Masterchef history. He didn’t know what it would take to make that happen, but he was willing to do whatever it was.

But first, he had to wait approximately forever to watch the episode that he’d been on.

He was even allowed to text Chowder and Farms about it while he watched. 

“There are a number of foods that have gained a reputation of being aphrodisiacs.”

Nursey stared at the screen, a grape halfway to his mouth and frozen in air. 

Maybe the producers did know what they were doing. There was no way that he could have watched Dex cook aphrodisiacs and not been yelling lewd chirps at him. But Dex couldn’t hear him or be distracted now, so there was no problem with making the chirps to the tv.

“Yes Dexy, beat it, whip it, stroke it good. Look, so smooth. Come on, Dexy, don’t rush things, slow and steady, yeah, see that’s how the cream comes out.” 

Imagining how dark Dex would blush from the comments was nearly as much fun as making him blush. Besides, it distracted him from trying to think of all the times that Dex might have made something for the team that might have included aphrodisiacs. It was a pointless endeavor because there were a lot of so-called aphrodisiacs that were just regular food. Besides, just because Dex made them for the team didn’t mean he was thinking about Nursey while he did.

“The first contestant to move on to the Masterchef Finale is Mari.”

“The second contestant to move on to cook for the Masterchef trophy is Shayan.”

“And finally, the third contestant to remain in the competition and cook in the finale is Will.”

“I’m sorry Raheem and Brad, but your time in the Masterchef Kitchen is at an end. Please remove your aprons.”

The contestants all exchanged hugs and handshakes and fist bumps and conciliatory shoulder pats with Raheem and Brad. Then the three finalists all wrapped arms around each other as they faced the judges. Nursey was not at all jealous. He had no reason to be. Dex would never see them again. They both had partners. And Dex wasn’t actually his boyfriend. 

But Dex was going to the finale.

* * *

Dex walked out into the Masterchef Kitchen beside Mari and Shayan. The lights were nearly blinding. The cooking stations had been reconfigured into a circle instead of the rows. And the balcony was full of cheering people. 

He was supposed to be standing with a confident expression or something so that the voice over could narrate about them each before the competition started. But what he wanted to do was try to see past the stage lights to see who exactly was in the balcony.

“Yes! Go Dexy!” Tater’s voice was the first that he recognized, and it was a shock. 

When the lights finally turned and they were allowed to walk forward toward the cooking area, he caught a brief glimpse of his cheering section. He wasn’t surprised that he didn’t see his Ma. He’d been shocked that she’d managed to get time off for the earlier visit; her work schedule was relentless. 

He was surprised to see Marty, Thirdy, Guy, and Poots near Tater. Jack and Bitty were less of a surprise. It did take him a minute to read the poster that Bitty was waving around. 

“Marry Me Christina Tosi”

He smiled at that, wondering how that had gone over with Jack. 

Lardo, Ransom, Holster, Whiskey, Tango, Bully, Hops. Even Louis was there, though it must have meant traveling back from Sweden early. Chowder and Cait. 

Then Nursey. Of course Nursey was still there. Remembering how Nursey’d disappeared halfway through the last film day, he spent a few seconds drinking in the sight before tearing his eyes away.

Vicky was next to Nursey, and she was also holding up a sign.

“Derek Bought A **BOX** Of Needhams!”

At that he nearly burst out laughing and he had to turn his attention away from the balcony or he’d never manage to hold it together long enough to get through this last challenge. 

Four servings of a three course meal: appetizer, entree, dessert. With an hour for each course. He’d had to present his planned menu to the producers before filming started, so they already had all the items ready that he needed for the appetizer round. 

He rotated his shoulders and shook himself a bit to make sure he was loose and ready. The next few hours were going to be a lot of work. Maybe not as physical as a game of hockey, but he also couldn’t get relieved by another line to rehydrate on the bench. And Nursey wasn’t down here with him to take his pass and turn it into a goal. 

But that was fine. They might have fallen into a rhythm of him passing to Nursey for the shot on goal, but this time Nursey’d set him up for the shot and he just had to put it in the net. No rebounds here. He couldn’t have a bad round. Every course had to be excellent. With three of them in the finale, one poorly executed item was all it would take to land him squarely in third place.

“Your time starts now!”

Breathe in. Breathe out. One fluid motion to pick up the knife in one hand and pull the first ingredient to the cutting board with the other. He was taking a risk by only making six of his planned appetizer, but the goat cheese blocks would need time to chill before he could fry them, and he didn’t want to run out of time on frying. In case he didn’t end up with four that were usable, he was planning a back up appetizer to make while they chilled. 

It was just risk after risk. An appetizer that required a lot of time chilling might not seem as impressive, but it should taste and look good. Plus, if it was any other situation, he’d be able to spend the time it was chilling preparing a main course. It was actually irritating that he couldn’t get a start on his main course during down time on preparing the appetizer. Or even a start on the dessert. 

There were so many options that would open up if he had a bit of prep time to marinate or get something chilling an hour before doing the bulk of the work. Having three hours to produce a three course meal with one course going out each hour would allow a lot more variety of interpretation and showcasing time management. But it wasn’t up to him. He wasn’t a producer, just another contestant.

* * *

On the floor below, the contestants sprung into action, filling bowls with water, cutting produce, beating butter. Nursey wasn’t sure what everyone was doing, but it looked like Dex was cutting the rinds off of blocks of goat cheese.

It wasn’t the most comfortable way to watch the competition. Standing for hours was tiring no matter what, and the balcony was crowded, albeit mostly with people there to cheer for Dex, so it was chill. He probably shouldn’t have insisted on a spot by the rail, but he called bestie rights along with Chowder (and presumed boyfriend rights from the last challenge) so that they could be next to Vicky. As the only family member who was able to make it to California, she obviously got a front row spot to watch Dex compete.

It was mad chill that so many people showed up for Dex and he wondered how many of them were there due to threats from Chowder. Then again, it was Dex. No one had required threats to unanimously (except for himself which totes didn’t count) vote him in as captain, so they probably hadn’t required threats to show up and support him for this either. And he may have, super casual like, dropped a message that he’d cover airfare and hotels for anyone that wasn’t sure they could swing it on short notice. 

So it wasn’t super surprising that the team was there. Or even some of the alums, honestly. He’d known that Jack and Bitty were watching, and Ransom and Holster and Lardo. Even Tater wasn’t a shock.

“Sorry.” Apparently the elbow he’d just gotten in the back was from Kent Parson. “Hey, don’t push. Be respectful. Trade off shifts for who’s up front to watch. Three hours, guys. Plenty to see for everyone.”

That was the surprising part. Half of the Aces seemed to have turned up. Nursey wasn’t sure if they had decided to attend on their own, or if Kent had told them to be there since he seemed to be directing them on the balcony. 

They’d also had to strategically place the Samwell group between the Aces and the Falcs because it wasn’t just Jack and Tater. Half of the Falcs were also there. All told, Dex’s cheering section was more than thirty people. Nursey was pretty sure that there was supposed to be a maximum number of people that could be invited for this part, but apparently none of the production assistants had been willing to tell two groups of professional athletes that they weren’t welcome. 

“Don’t kick my sign. I have to make sure Will sees it.”

Nursey moved his foot back half an inch.

“You could just not chirp me about the Needhams.”

Vicky shook her head. “He needs to know. It’s important information for him to have asap so that he knows exactly what kind of person you are.”

“Chill! Rude.”

“Don’t worry, he’ll probably think it was misguided but nice or something.”

“Nah, he’ll think I’m a rich idiot who falls for scams.”

She hummed and shrugged. “Just a rich flatlander. It’s ok, he’ll still think you’re smart and cute.”

Nursey turned his focus back to Dex who was rolling goat cheese through breadcrumbs. “I wish.” 

“Didn’t say he’d be right. Said he’d think it.”

“Thanks Vick.” 

Her shoulder knocked into his arm. “Course. You’re my favorite brother.” 

They were quiet for a few minutes, watching Dex as he cooked some artichokes and the judges walked around talking to the different contestants.

“He’s wearing his blue flannel.”

“Ayuh. He does that when he wants to look nice.”

Nursey nodded. “It looks good on him. I’m glad he wore it for the finale. He seems confident. He looks good. I should. I should ask him out.”

Vicky turned and pulled on his arm until he actually turned to look at her. “Are you serious? Are you _finally_ going to commit to this?”

“Uh, I mean. Chill? He’ll probably say no. But like, I can brush it off as the heat of the moment. So it’s chill. I could do it.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “You know what. Forget it. Maybe I can talk him into Chris and Cait. Then I get a brother and a sister. Two for one.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He went on national television for you, on a solo competition show where he’d have to be a main focus especially to get this far and he’s within reach of winning it. _For you_. He’s wearing the flannel that you like. He let himself be _outed_ on national television instead of telling the producers that you were d-line partners instead of romantic partners. The only, _only_ , reason you aren’t my brother-in-law right now is because he doesn’t think he deserves to ask you (and he’d probably insist on waiting until after graduation) and _you_ haven’t asked _him_. Why are all my brothers dumbasses?”

Nursey frowned and narrowed his eyes. “Wait, is that what Uncle-”

“ _Yes_ , that’s what Uncle Mel was talking about.”

“Oh. Chill.”

He turned back to watch Will, but he wasn’t really processing what was happening on the floor below.

* * *

“Will, please tell us about your dish.”

He nodded and schooled his expression into something mild and confident. He had to put effort into a small smile because his neutral expression combined with his size and hair tended to make people think he was angry when he wasn’t and he didn’t want that to be the impression on camera or to the judges. “For the main course this evening, I’ve prepared pork chops with fig and grape agrodolce, a mushroom and hazelnut mesclun greens salad and sweet potato baskets.”

“The salad is dry?”

“Ideally, the salad would be eaten with the agrodulce from the pork chops.”

“Pork chops seem a little low rent for this stage of the competition.”

He turned the bland smile on Joe. “I’m sure you’re aware, Chef, that the majority of the value in gourmet food comes from the labor in creating a completed meal, not from the cost of the ingredients. And even people from ‘low rent’ areas deserve delicious food.”

“Thank you, Will.”

He smiled at them all again with a nod and stepped back. 

Dex wasn’t sure why Joe seemed to have a mission to make him feel bad about his food, but he also wasn’t sure why Joe thought that his opinion mattered to Dex, so it was kind of a wash. He would have liked to spend the time while the other contestants presented their main courses in the kitchen part of the sound stage so he could see who all was in the balcony. Part of him was still afraid that he’d return to find Nursey gone again. But he hadn’t gotten that opportunity. Luckily, when they walked back out to start the dessert round, the balcony was still crowded with their support squads. 

“It is still a very tight race and anyone’s game. It all comes down to this. One hour to prepare four stunning Masterchef worthy desserts. Your time starts now.”

Dex shook out his arms again, taking the time to stretch a little bit. He didn’t have much time and needed to get four perfectly made desserts, but stressing or hurting himself wasn’t going to make him more likely to win. Besides, it only took a few seconds while his burner warmed up and he could start dissolving sugar in one pan and melting some bittersweet chocolate and butter in another

It was going to be close on the candied rhubarb, but it was a bonus extra, so he could probably live without it if it wasn’t ready in time. The hour was a blur of moving from one task to another to make sure everything came together in time. But he still had time when he pulled the cakes out to cool and wrapped the rhubarb around some kitchen utensils to get a nice spiral. At that point it was a matter of patience. Trying to move either of them before they were ready would ruin the work put into them. 

It felt a bit like the souffles again, and he distracted himself by starting to clean up his station. He could check the plates again, but the cakes were cooling on them and he’d already double and triple checked them to make sure they were flawless.

Still, he had plenty of time to gently loosen the cakes and tap them out of their baking dishes onto the plates, then top with the spirals of rhubarb. When time was called, his hands were in the air, but his eyes were closed. 

Win or lose, he’d completed the challenges. He’d made it through. He’d done all he could.

All that was left was to present to the judges and then wait for their decision.

“Tell us about your dessert.”

“For dessert, I’ve prepared a chocolate and rhubarb molten lava cake with a candied rhubarb garnish.”

“Candied rhubarb? Premade?”

“No, chef. I made the candied rhubarb as well as the lava cakes.”

Joe raised his eyebrows and nodded as Will stepped back to let them taste his cakes. 

He’d cut into one of the extras that he’d made, and it had turned out beautifully, but that didn’t mean that the ones he’d served the judges would all turn out perfect. 

“Thank you contestants. Please return to the kitchen while we make our decision about who will be the next Masterchef.”

The friends and family all cheered as they exited the dining area where the judging had occurred. The onlookers didn’t have a way to know what was going on in that part, but they were all there for a very particular purpose. To cheer on the finalists. 

Except perhaps the previously eliminated contestants. They were probably contractually obligated to appear for the last episode.

* * *

While the final three were presenting to the judges, a large contingent of crew swarmed onto the set to clear the space. Production assistants started herding the people off the balcony and into position on the main floor so that they could celebrate with the winner, and Nursey was happy to note that at least one seemed to have a clipboard with information about who to have near the front. They still thought he was Dex’s boyfriend, so he and Vicky were escorted to the front of the crowd once more. 

When the contestants came out, he thought they might get to talk to Dex while the judges deliberated, but apparently that still wasn’t allowed because another production assistant kept the contestants separated from the rest. Still, he tried to do his best by throwing a number of confident, chill smiles Dex’s way until they were finally put into final position and ordered to be quiet for the judges to appear and taping to start. 

There was a marquis overhead that had displayed the countdown timer and would probably show the name of the winner. Nursey had only spent a few minutes trying to figure out if he could overhear the radio chatter through the headsets the production assistants were wearing to see if he could tell who was going to be the winner. Mostly because he’d finally decided that he couldn’t make out the words, he’d have to follow one of the assistants around to make sure he caught the right bit even if he could, and probably that was handled by a different part of the production crew.

The judges walked out onto the elevated part of the stage.

“This was a very difficult decision. You all cooked amazing meals today, but unfortunately, there can be only one Masterchef.”

“Like Highlanders.” It was kind of impressive how Vicky managed to murmur that low enough that the mics didn’t pick it up and without moving her lips at all. 

“However, one contestant nailed every aspect of this challenge, preparing three courses that were stunning visually and prepared exquisitely with wonderful flavors. This contestant has demonstrated a strong foundational knowledge of ingredients, cooking, and teamwork. Your new Masterchef is-”

It took all of Nursey’s self control to resist rolling his eyes on television at the dramatic pause. 

“Will!”

Confetti started falling over them all as the gathered mass of supporters cheered. He wasn’t allowed to jump forward and congratulate Dex yet.

“Please step forward and accept your trophy, young man.” 

Dex moved away from him to shake hands with the judges and get the trophy. The rest of the winnings would come later. But finally, Dex turned back to the group and lifted the trophy with a smile. 

Everyone cheered back, even the eliminated contestants.

Dex still didn’t come toward him. He walked over to shake hands with and hug both Mari and Shayan. Nursey couldn’t hear what he said to them.

Then, finally, Dex walked toward his own crowd of supporters and Nursey managed to reach him first, wrapping him in a hug. Dex’s laugh as he wrapped his arms around Nursey was musical and before Nursey could second guess himself again, he made good on his promise from the balcony. 

“Hey Dex, wanna go out on a date?”

Dex pulled back to look at him with an expression of confusion. “What are you saying?”

He swallowed and tried again. “Be my boyfriend for real? It’s chill if-”

“Can I kiss you?” Dex hadn’t waited for him to finish backpedalling. 

“Um, ch’yeah. That’s chill.”

What he expected was dry, chapped lips in a quick peck, hidden from the cameras. Maybe a kiss on the cheek like he’d given on the last episode. What he got was the world suddenly at a completely different angle because Dex didn’t kiss him. Dex managed to hold onto the trophy and sweep him around into a dip before pressing their lips together. It was all that Nursey could do to clutch at Dex’s shoulders and kiss back with as much intention. 

He was really glad he’d gotten a nice suite to spend a few more days in California after the finale. He was really glad that it seemed like he might be able to talk Dex into staying in it with him. He was really glad he and Chowder had sent in that application for Dex.


	14. Chapter 14

Team dinner was winding down. Most of the team who didn’t currently live at the Haus had disappeared, whether to the den for tv and games or back to their dorms. Surprisingly, Whiskey was one of the ones left at the table, helping pick up plates and cutlery to take to the sink.

“So, uh. You came out on television, but you still got offers?”

When Dex turned from the sink, his expression was drawn with concern. “Ayuh. I mean, I hadn’t planned to come out like that. Or at all. Mostly because of that. I mean.” He stopped and gave a half shrug. “It seemed a low chance I’d get offers at all, but the NHL isn’t exactly known for being accepting of queer players. But still, I got offers. Maybe fewer. Maybe lower.”

Nursey snorted from where he was still sat at the table, slowly savoring his third helping of dessert. “He got four offers. That’s not bad.”

“I was hoping to make it five. Oh. Uh. Knock knock.” 

Out of all the things that Nursey expected to see in the Haus on an April evening, Kent Parson was not one of them. But there he stood, in the doorway of the kitchen, saying he was there to offer Dex yet another NHL contract.

He gave a little wave. “Sorry. Tony let us in, but I think Scraps is catching up with him in the other room.” 

“‘S chill. Pull up some chair. You just missed team dinner.”

Kent’s smile seemed pressed, but he did take the offered chair. “It’s probably better that way. And no offense, but the last time I was here, I kind of had my words used twisted on me and was blamed for a lot.”

“Then why come back?”

“Aces management really wants to make an offer to Dex. They figured that a personal delivery from the captain, me, who you have met before might make our program stand out when you make your decision.” He tilted his head a bit. “I mean, it’s only been legal for you to receive offers for a week and you’ve already got five now. Teams are interested, Poindexter.”

Nursey looked up just before Dex set a plate on the table in front of Kent.

“There’s enough for Scraps, too, if you two are hungry. I can’t comment on the offer right now.”

“That’s fair. If you don’t already have an agent, you should look into one.” He paused and looked at the plate for a long time. “I shouldn’t. I don’t want you to be accused of bribery.”

Nursey snorted again. “He’s a masterchef. We all know which way the bribery is going in this exchange.”

“Nurse.”

“No, he’s not wrong. Management has their own reasons for wanting you, but-” He paused and gave a sauve grin. “Part of my support for that might have been related to your cooking.”

Dex took the plate back off the table, then returned a few minutes later with a couple of take out containers. “Should be enough for you and Scraps, if you want to share. You can claim you got it somewhere else if you want.”

“Thanks.” Kent took a sheaf of papers out and set them on the table. “I can send a soft copy to your agent later. Or our back office can. There’s some contact info included in the packet. But seriously. I hope you’ll consider Vegas. It’s a good town. We’ve got great fans. And we’ve got some great guys. I think the coaches really want to put together a strong, cohesive team. And I think you’d be a great replacement for some of the guys that could really do with a change of scenery.”

“Chill. That mean you’re clearing the roster of homophobes before trying to sign a new d-man who’s out?” 

“Yeah. That’s what it means.” Kent stood up and looked at the takeout containers for a couple of seconds before scooping them up. “I should get going. But think about it.”

It didn’t take much longer to finish cleaning up after that. Especially because Nursey’d managed to finish eating while Kent was there and helped with getting the dishes rinsed and in the dishwasher. Then they could head down to the bungalow and relax a little. 

Once they were settled on the couch and Nursey’s legs were draped over Dex, he figured it was time to continue the conversation that had really started upstairs.

“So, which offer are you thinking of taking?”

Dex’s hand was distracting as he rubbed it up and down Nursey’s calf. “Not sure yet. Got some wicked great offers, but like Kent said, it’s still early days. I don’t want to commit to anything without knowing where you’ll end up.”

That didn’t make any sense. “That doesn’t make any sense.” He was still blinking through his confusion. “I’ll end up where you end up. I thought I’d made it clear that I intended this to be a long term kind of thing.”

Dex huffed a laugh. “Yeah. I did get the texts about that. But, still. You shouldn’t be prioritizing me over your own wants and needs. You’ve got dreams and goals. I can follow you.”

He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his knees so that he could put a hand over Dex’s on his leg. “Hey, it’s chill. It’s not like I’m giving up med school for you. I’m an author. I can write anywhere. I am 100 not giving up my goals. I’m just planning to pursue them from the same bed you sleep in.”

“So romantic.”

“Right?” He grinned and leaned forward even further to meet Dex for a soft kiss. 

“Three more weeks. Weird to think about. At least this summer will be less stressful than last.”

Nursey frowned at him. “No stress summer.”

“Well, there will still be moving and preseason camps and practices and stuff. So, some stress. But at least this time I’ll be able to keep up with the inbox full of memes and jokes.”

“Chill. Knew you secretly loved those.”

“Ayuh. Such a secret.” 

“But also, before you start stressing about moving and preseason. We should take a vacay after graduation. Just the two of us. Maybe Vegas, actually. Vegas is a great town to just relax and see what happens….”

“We’re not going to elope, Nurse.”

“First of all, how dare you suggest that. Of course. _Of course_ we aren’t going to elope because then I wouldn’t get to go tux shopping with you.”

“Oh my mistake. But also-.” He broke off and motioned with his finger for Nursey to lean in for another kiss. “We aren’t going to elope to Vegas, Nurse.”

**Author's Note:**

> This ended up twice as long as expected and I probably should have really considered the fact that I, uh, don't cook? Yeah, should have considered that before coming up with the idea really. But, well, hopefully it worked and I hope y'all all liked it.


End file.
